Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

everyone knew who lee minho was. the guy who picked fights for fun, always with bruised knuckles and a sharp glare that dared anyone to challenge him. the guy with the black yamaha r1, roaring through the university gates like a king returning to his domain.

it wasn't just the machine itself that drew attention; it was how minho owned it. the sleek, dark leather of his jacket hugging his shoulders, black, slightly baggy jeans clinging to his legs, and a tight black t-shirt that left little to the imagination. his eyes were cool, cutting, and disinterested as if the world around him was a constant disappointment.

everyone had a crush on him. of course they did. it was impossible not to be caught in the magnetic pull of his presence. the way he removed his helmet and shook his head, unruly dark hair settling around his face in perfect disarray.

it was a ritual of pure, devastating grace. people whispered about him in classrooms and hallways, more intrigued by the idea of him than the man himself. and han jisung? jisung was just another moth drawn to the flame.

but jisung was nothing like minho. where minho was composed, controlled, and quiet, jisung was a bundle of restless energy. loud, playful, easily excitable.

he made friends effortlessly, with his laughter as his calling card. but real friends? there were only two who truly understood him. felix, with his endless patience and golden smile, and jeongin, who matched jisung's chaos with sharp wit and a reckless smile.

jisung's world was made of laughter, late-night takeout, and gaming marathons until his eyes burned.

yet even in all his chatter and enthusiasm, he couldn't quite shake the feeling of emptiness. the gnawing knowledge that someone like lee minho would never even glance his way.

because minho was something else. something untouchable. and jisung? jisung was simply a mess in the shape of a human.

minho was a fourth-year student, already so close to stepping out of university life and into something bigger. jisung was only in his third year, stumbling through his classes while his mind frequently drifted to one man who'd probably never learn his name.

and for the last year and two months, jisung had been hopelessly, desperately, head-over-heels in love with lee minho.

he was well aware of how pathetic it was. there was no point in pretending otherwise. and jisung wasn't exactly subtle about his crush, at least not to himself.

he was the kind of person who wore his emotions on his sleeve, whether it was excitement over a new game release or the crushing anxiety of not understanding a damn thing during exams.

but minho? minho was a closed book. no, not even that. minho was a locked book buried under layers of stone and ice, and jisung didn't have the first clue where to even start looking for the key. worse still, he wasn't even sure if minho knew of his existence.

so, what did jisung do with his hopeless, one-sided love? he wrote letters. because of course he did. he wrote them like some lovesick teenager, fingers itching to pour everything his tongue couldn't say.

they weren't love confessions exactly. more like... small notes of admiration. compliments that never saw the light of day. words meant for one person only, and yet delivered like anonymous gifts.

they were simple things:
> your hair looks good today.
> you're so cool.
> your eyes are beautiful.

it was embarrassing and ridiculous and so utterly jisung that it hurt. but he couldn't stop himself. not when writing those notes felt like the only way to get even the smallest fraction of his feelings out before they drove him insane.

every single day, jisung would slip those notes into minho's locker. it wasn't hard to figure out which one it was; jisung had seen him use it once, just once, while wandering the hallways during a break.

but that had been weeks ago, and jisung wasn't even sure if minho used his locker regularly. maybe he never did. maybe the notes were piling up inside like a sad collection of unsent messages.

or maybe minho threw them away the moment he saw them, crumpling them into balls before tossing them in the nearest trash can.

but even if that was the case, jisung couldn't bring himself to stop. because there was something strangely comforting about it.

the act of writing, of pouring his heart into those tiny slips of paper, made him feel less like he was drowning. and the slim chance, however improbable, that minho actually read them was enough to keep him going.

felix and jeongin didn't know about the letters. of course they didn't. jisung would never hear the end of it if they found out. they'd probably think he was some kind of weirdo. and maybe he was.

but it wasn't like he could help it. love wasn't something jisung was particularly good at understanding, and this crush - no, this obsession - was eating him alive.

it had been two months. two months of writing notes, of secretly sliding them into minho's locker, of wondering if minho had ever read even one of them. two months of convincing himself that it was all harmless fun, that it didn't really matter if minho never noticed him.

but deep down, jisung knew better. deep down, he knew he was utterly, stupidly, pathetically in love. and he didn't have the slightest clue what to do about it.

so he kept writing. and he kept hoping. because that was all he could do.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

jisung was sitting at one of the tables in the cafeteria, his tray half-forgotten in front of him. felix and jeongin were laughing beside him about something ridiculous - probably something jeongin said, judging by the way felix was clutching his stomach, his giggles echoing over the general clatter of the lunch rush.

jisung was barely paying attention. his sandwich hung limply in his hand, half-eaten but untouched for the last five minutes. his eyes were too busy darting around the bustling room, searching, seeking, hoping. it was a habit he couldn't break, a desperate addiction that twisted his chest whenever he caught even a glimpse of lee minho.

pathetic. that's what he was. a sad, love-struck idiot waiting for the briefest moment of contact with someone who had no idea he even existed.

but jisung couldn't help it.

he needed to see minho at least once a day to breathe normally. the sight of him was like oxygen, sharp and cool and necessary. without it, the rest of his day felt muted and wrong, like he was trudging through a fog.

he told himself he was just looking out of curiosity. told himself it was just a crush, something he could easily get over if he tried. but he knew it was a lie. the way his heart twisted painfully in his chest every time minho walked into the room made it all too clear.

jisung's spine straightened without him even realizing, shoulders squaring as if by looking a little more put-together he could somehow become worthy of attention. his eyes swept the cafeteria with more purpose now, his body practically humming with anticipation. and then-

there.

the moment minho walked into the cafeteria, the room felt smaller. like the air had thinned and everyone else had blurred into insignificance.

jisung's lips parted on a shallow, hitching breath as his eyes locked onto minho's form. black, slightly baggy jeans hung low on his hips, a fitted black t-shirt stretching over the firm lines of his chest, and that damn leather jacket hanging off his shoulders like it was made for him and him alone.

minho's hair was a mess today, probably from the helmet, but it still fell around his face like it had been styled by the hands of some divine being with an appreciation for casual perfection. his expression was unreadable, those sharp eyes of his sliding over the cafeteria without landing on anything or anyone in particular.

of course, he didn't look jisung's way. he never did. because why would he? jisung was just another nameless student in the sea of faces, nothing special or interesting. and minho? minho was a force of nature. someone everyone either feared or admired or both.

beside him, felix snorted, the sound muffled by his hand as he tried to contain his laughter. but his gaze was sly, amusement dancing in his eyes as he regarded jisung with the same fond exasperation he always did.

"you're drooling," felix said, pulling a disgusted face.

jisung blinked, feeling the hot flush of embarrassment crawl up his neck. his hand flew to his mouth in a panic, and- shit. his fingers came away damp, and the mortification burned like fire across his cheeks. he quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to salvage what little dignity he had left.

from his other side, jeongin's grin was a gleaming, sharp-edged thing. "I guess minho walked in?" he asked, his tone dripping with smugness.

"shut up," jisung grumbled, refusing to meet jeongin's eyes. he tore another bite from his sandwich just to have something to do, chewing furiously as if that could somehow erase the humiliation of getting caught literally drooling over minho.

but his gaze still strayed to where minho was making his way through the cafeteria, weaving effortlessly through the crowd with that casual grace that seemed to be etched into his very bones. minho didn't so much walk as he prowled, like a predator that knew exactly how much power it held and didn't need to flaunt it.

jisung's fingers tightened around his sandwich, the bread squishing between his grip. he should've looked away. should've pretended like he was only casually glancing around.

but his eyes refused to obey, locked onto the sight of minho as he reached one of the tables near the corner of the cafeteria, where his usual group of friends sat waiting.

they greeted him with easy familiarity, slapping him on the back and laughing as he slid into his seat. minho responded with a smirk, his eyes sharp and wicked as he returned whatever playful jab someone threw his way.

his friends - mostly older students, the kind who walked around like they owned the damn place - hung on his every word, drawn to him like planets caught in his gravity.

jisung couldn't blame them. he was caught just the same, even from across the room. even when minho had no idea he was watching.

"well, there goes your sanity for the rest of the day," felix commented, his voice rich with amusement. "seriously, man. you need to stop torturing yourself like this."

"he's right, you know," jeongin chimed in, shrugging casually. "the dude doesn't even know you exist. why keep this whole lovesick puppy act going? it's just sad."

jisung scowled, but his bravado was flimsy at best. "I said shut up," he muttered, though his voice lacked any real heat. he tore into his sandwich with more force than necessary, the taste of mayonnaise and ham barely registering past the thundering of his pulse.

he couldn't stop looking at minho, couldn't stop tracking his every movement, even when he knew it was pointless. but it was better than nothing. better than sitting around wondering if minho had even glanced at the letters he'd been slipping into his locker for the past two months.

maybe one day he'd stop feeling this way. maybe one day he'd look at minho and feel nothing at all.

but today was not that day.

and from the way his chest clenched and his stomach twisted at the sight of minho's easy, careless smile, jisung knew that day wouldn't be coming anytime soon.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

jisung was sitting at his desk, his notebook lying open in front of him, its pages filled with half-finished sentences, doodles of cats and random song lyrics. the professor's voice droned on at the front of the classroom, something about literary techniques or symbolism - jisung wasn't sure.

the classroom felt stuffy despite the coolness of the day, the air thick with the sleepy energy of a lecture that felt like it had been dragging on for hours.

he had zoned out at some point between the professor announcing the topic of the lecture and the rain starting to pour down outside, heavy and relentless. the rhythmic tapping of raindrops against the window felt more interesting than whatever the professor was saying.

he chewed absently on the back of his pen, eyes drifting over the nearly blank page. his brain was a mess of words, but none of them wanted to cooperate.

he was supposed to be taking notes - he knew that much. but instead, all he could think about was minho.

write about how beautiful minho looked? no, that was old news. his notes were already filled with scattered thoughts of minho's beauty.

the elegant curve of his smile, the rare but breathtaking laugh that sometimes slipped past his cool exterior, the way his eyes seemed to glint with sharp intelligence even when he was doing something as mundane as walking to class, the smooth cadence of his voice that somehow managed to sound both comforting and intimidating.

how the colour black suited him? that had already been written down more times than he could count. minho wore black like it was made for him, making him look both intimidating and devastatingly attractive. the casualness of his confidence made jisung's chest flutter, the way he strolled through the hallways like the world had already bent itself to his will.

jisung sighed, letting his cheek rest against his palm, his gaze dragging away from the paper and out toward the rain-soaked campus.

it was cold today, the kind of chill that seeped into your bones. he should have worn a jacket, but he had been running late this morning, barely managing to stuff his notebooks into his bag before bolting out the door.

now he was starting to regret it, the cold air from the drafty classroom nibbling at his skin, causing goosebumps to rise along his arms.

but even that chill wasn't enough to cool down the way his heart had been racing ever since he'd seen minho earlier. the image replayed in his mind, vivid and torturous.

minho, walking effortlessly down the hallway, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black coat, shoulders relaxed, chin held high like he owned the place. confidence poured off him like a fragrance, intoxicating and overwhelming.

jisung had stopped dead in his tracks, his feet glued to the floor as he watched minho pass by. it was ridiculous how even the most ordinary moments could turn his brain into a mess of fluttering thoughts and racing heartbeats.

he wished, just for a moment, that he had even a fraction of that confidence. he was loud and energetic, sure, but that was more of a front than anything else. a way to hide the insecurities he was sure minho didn't have.

his lack of confidence had kept him trapped in this endless loop of pining and never actually doing anything about it. if he had even a fraction of minho's confidence, he would've confessed to him months ago instead of scribbling down stupid little love notes that he was too much of a coward to actually hand over directly.

he caught himself smiling like an idiot just thinking about minho, his cheeks warming despite the chill.

embarrassed, he quickly looked around the classroom to make sure no one had noticed. but everyone else seemed too absorbed in either their notes or their phones to care.

frustrated with himself but unwilling to fight the urge, jisung picked up his pen and started scribbling again, his handwriting messy but quick.

> the thought of you is keeping me warm even on the coldest days.

he stared at the sentence, rereading it over and over until the words became both familiar and foreign. it was cheesy, yes. painfully so. but it was also true. because somehow, even in this chilly classroom with rain pouring outside and his fingers slowly turning to ice, thinking about minho made him feel warm.

his lips curled into a satisfied smile as he folded the paper neatly, his fingers trembling with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

the lecture was over before he even realized it, the professor's words fading into the background as students around him began to gather their belongings. jisung shoved his things into his bag, heart thumping wildly against his ribcage.

he left the classroom with a bounce in his step, nerves already sizzling under his skin as he made his way to the hallway where the lockers were.

he glanced around, his eyes darting nervously from one end of the corridor to the other. it was still mostly empty, most students having retreated to the cafeteria or some other place that wasn't cold and slightly damp.

jisung glanced around again, just to make sure he was alone, his heart pounding as he crept toward minho's locker. the numbers were engraved in his memory at this point. he'd done this too many times for them to be anything but automatic. his fingers trembled slightly as he pulled out the note and slipped it into the narrow gap of minho's locker door.

and then he was bolting away, his sneakers squeaking against the polished floor as he practically sprinted around the corner. the adrenaline buzzed through his veins, making him feel simultaneously stupid and exhilarated. it was ridiculous, really. this whole thing.

he knew he could just tell minho how he felt. the worst that could happen was rejection, right? but every time he even thought about doing it, his throat tightened and his courage evaporated like mist.

so instead, he kept writing letters, kept slipping them into minho's locker like some lovesick idiot from a high school drama. and every time he did it, he swore it would be the last one.

but it never was.

jisung groaned at his own hopelessness, burying his face in his hands for a moment before shaking it off. his day was going to be ruined by the endless overthinking about what would happen if minho actually found out who was writing him all those letters.

but if minho ever connected the dots... jisung's cheeks turned red just thinking about it.

he shoved his hands into his pockets and headed toward the campus café, needing something warm to drink before his next class. all he could do was hope that maybe, just maybe, minho would smile when he read the note.

and that alone was worth the cold creeping up his arms and the way his heart kept betraying him.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the cafeteria was buzzing with noise, students chattering and laughing as they squeezed in conversations before the lunch break ended.

minho sat at the corner table, one hand lazily scrolling through his phone while the other pushed his half-eaten lunch around his plate. his focus wasn't really on his phone, more on the conversation going on around him.

seungmin stood up, holding his tray with the remnants of his lunch. his eyes fell on the small piece of paper lying on the table, its edges slightly crumpled. "is this for the trashcan?" he asked, nodding at the note.

minho's eyes flicked up, briefly meeting seungmin's gaze before glancing at the note. "no." the response came out firmer than he intended, so he quickly looked back down at his phone, pretending to be engrossed in whatever was on the screen.

seungmin shrugged, mumbling an "okay" before heading toward the trashcan. chan, who was busy poking at his own lunch, gave minho a curious look. "what's that?"

"nothing." minho replied, his eyes fixed on his phone with an intensity that was definitely forced.

chan raised an eyebrow but seemed to decide it wasn't worth pressing, turning back to his food.

they didn't have time for much more conversation anyway, because the bell rang loudly across the cafeteria, signaling the end of lunch. the students around them began gathering their things, chairs scraping against the tiled floor, voices rising and falling in a flurry of noise.

chan and seungmin left quickly, heading off to their respective classes. but minho lingered for a moment longer, his fingers drifting down to the pocket of his jacket where the note now rested.

he didn't even remember shoving it there. his movements had been automatic, his hand snapping forward to catch the piece of paper before seungmin could throw it away. and he didn't even know why.

it wasn't like the notes were special. the first few he found crammed into his locker had been crumpled up and tossed into the nearest trashcan without a second thought. the compliments felt shallow, generic - "you looked beautiful today." or "I love the way you look when you're focused," cringe.

"your smile is gorgeous, wish I could see it more often." or "you look so cool." facts. these were things minho already knew.

but then something about the notes started to change. the words became more thoughtful, more personal. and no matter how much he tried to tell himself they were stupid and pointless, something made him keep the more recent ones instead of throwing them away.

maybe it was curiosity. maybe it was the idea that someone cared enough to do this, even if it was from a distance.

minho stood up from the table and made his way out of the cafeteria, moving through the crowded hallways toward his next lecture.

his steps were quick, purposeful, his eyes staring straight ahead. he could hear the whispers around him, the quiet comments made by people who thought he couldn't hear them.

"doesn't he ever smile?"
"I heard he snapped at some girl last week."
"he's so arrogant. bet he thinks he's better than everyone else."

minho had heard it all before. the comments bounced off him, dull and meaningless. if people wanted to waste their time gossiping about him, that was their problem.

he pushed open the door to his classroom and slipped into his usual seat by the window, the one that gave him a decent view of the courtyard outside. today the sky was clear, the air crisp but dry, a contrast to the downpour from yesterday.

the professor walked in a moment later, his voice ringing out as he greeted the students and launched straight into the lecture.

minho barely listened. his fingers were already reaching into his pocket, pulling out the note with gentle precision. he unfolded the piece of paper slowly, his eyes tracing over the words that had been scribbled there in slightly messy handwriting.

> the thought of you is keeping me warm even on the coldest days.

minho stared at the note, his brows furrowing slightly. he'd read it before, of course. he'd stood frozen in front of his locker that morning, the words settling into his chest like a stubborn warmth.

this was... different.

unlike the previous notes, this one actually made something in his chest twist. not quite discomfort, but something unfamiliar. it was almost poetic in a way, gentle and honest. like someone was pouring their heart out to him one sentence at a time.

he shouldn't care.

but he couldn't help it.

who was writing him these notes?

was it a girl? a boy? someone who admired him from afar, too shy or too embarrassed to say something directly?

was it a joke? someone trying to make him look stupid? or was it genuine?

the professor's voice droned on, words turning into meaningless background noise. minho's eyes were still on the note, his thumb brushing over the ink like he could somehow feel the emotion behind it.

he tried to think of anyone who had been paying him unusual attention lately. but everyone either looked at him with fear, admiration, or indifference. his reputation was built on being confident, unbothered, distant. It wasn't something he tried to be - it was just how he naturally was.

he didn't let people in.

but this... whoever this was, they were sneaking their way past his defenses one note at a time.

minho folded the note carefully and slid it back into his pocket. he couldn't focus on the lecture, his thoughts tangled around the possibility of someone out there caring about him this much. someone who saw something in him worth writing about.

his fingers tapped against the surface of his desk, his eyes unfocused as he stared out of the window. the world outside seemed much quieter than the noise in his head.

and no matter how much he tried to ignore it, those words lingered in his mind.

> the thought of you is keeping me warm even on the coldest days.

minho took a deep breath, his curiosity now firmly latched onto the mystery. maybe it was time to start paying more attention.

to find out who was hiding behind those words.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

jisung's attention was immediately captured by the low, throaty growl of the motorcycle engine cutting through the usual hum of campus chatter.

his head snapped toward the noise so fast that his vision went slightly black at the edges, but he didn't care. his eyes locked onto the familiar figure straddling the sleek, dark motorcycle like it was an extension of himself.

minho.

jisung's breath hitched as he watched minho park the motorcycle with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times. the leather jacket clinging to his shoulders fit him perfectly, accentuating every line of his body as he swung one leg over the seat to stand.

even from this distance, jisung could see the casual, confident grace in every movement, like minho didn't even have to try to look that effortlessly cool.

people stared as minho unbuckled his helmet, but jisung hardly noticed them. his entire world had narrowed down to just one person.

then minho pulled the helmet off and shook his head slightly, his hair tumbling messily around his face before he reached up to run his fingers through it, ruffling the strands back into some semblance of order.

jisung's heart stopped.

literally stopped, like someone had pressed the pause button on his very existence. his lips parted slightly as he stared, eyes glued to minho as if that was the only thing keeping him upright.

the way minho's fingers combed through his hair, casually messing it up even more, somehow made him look even better than before. the tousled, carefree look only added to his appeal, like he'd just stepped out of a magazine cover for some high-end brand and decided to make the entire campus his runway.

"dude." felix's voice broke through the fog clouding jisung's brain, but the sound was distant, like it was coming from the other side of a tunnel.

"shut up," jisung whispered, his eyes still locked on minho. his voice came out breathy and weak, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment.

his heart was pounding so fast he swore everyone within a ten-foot radius could hear it. the blood rushing through his ears made felix's voice fade into nothing. nothing else existed. just minho.

minho was climbing off his motorcycle now, one smooth movement that made jisung's knees feel like jelly. he hooked his helmet over one of the handlebars and took a step away from the bike, his gaze lifting just enough to nod at seungmin, who was waiting nearby.

the greeting was simple, a slight tilt of minho's chin, but somehow even that looked cool. so damn cool.

jisung felt like his lungs had forgotten how to work. how could someone just be so... effortlessly magnetic? it wasn't fair. no one should have that kind of power over him.

but minho did.

god, he was so completely screwed.

he didn't even register felix leaving his side. the only thing his brain could focus on was the memory of minho's smirk as he nodded at seungmin, the image burning itself into his mind like a tattoo. jisung couldn't stop replaying it, his mind obsessed with every tiny detail.

the way the sunlight glinted off minho's hair, making the darker strands seem warmer somehow. the way his jacket fit over his shoulders, hugging his frame like it was tailor-made for him. the way he exuded confidence even when he wasn't trying.

jisung released a shaky breath, finally tearing his gaze away as minho disappeared into the university building, his figure swallowed by the crowd of students heading to their next classes.

he took another deep breath, feeling his lungs expand properly for the first time in what felt like forever. and only then did he realize his hands were trembling.

"shit," he muttered under his breath, rubbing his palms against his jeans as if that would somehow get rid of the residual nerves rattling through his body. "I am so freaking screwed."

he tried to force his brain to refocus, to remind himself that he actually had a class to get to. but his thoughts were already veering off-track, trailing after the boy who had just disappeared from his view.

minho. his thoughts always came back to minho.

it was pathetic. pathetic how a single glance from the guy could make jisung's entire day feel like it had been yanked out from under him. pathetic how his stomach twisted with both excitement and terror at the possibility of ever being noticed by him.

he started walking toward his next class, his steps heavy but his mind far too light, buzzing with images of leather jackets, smirks, and that damn hair flip.

but then, as he turned the corner, something twisted sharply in his chest. because no matter how much he pined after minho, no matter how many stupid love notes he slipped into minho's locker, he knew one painful truth.

minho didn't even know he existed.

or if he did, jisung was nothing more than a random face in a sea of students. a chaotic, loud kid who always seemed to be on the edge of laughter or disaster. the kind of person people remembered for being entertaining, not for being worth their attention.

the thought sank into his bones, weighing him down. but the other half of his brain - the part that wouldn't shut up about how minho looked leaning against his motorcycle - refused to let him feel sorry for himself.

he would still write the notes. even if they were the most cowardly way of telling someone how you felt. even if minho never found out who was behind them. even if minho found them annoying, or stupid, or something worse.

because somehow, writing those words made him feel a little less invisible.

jisung reached his classroom, his hands still unsteady as he fumbled with the door handle. his thoughts were a jumbled mess, but one thing remained crystal clear.

he was completely and utterly in love with lee minho.

and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

jisung's feet dragged along the hallway, his mind still heavy with thoughts of the lecture he had just stumbled out of. the words the professor had been speaking barely registered, and he felt the familiar tightness in his chest - a mixture of anxiety and anticipation - gripping him again. it was always there when he thought about minho.

today, however, was different. he hadn't been searching for him. he wasn't actively looking around or hoping to catch a glimpse of the one person who seemed to make his heart race no matter what.

he was just... walking.

he had a few minutes before his next class, time he usually spent mentally preparing himself for the chaos of the upcoming lecture or zoning out in some random corner of the hallway.

but then he heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. a distant, rhythmic tapping of shoes that caught his attention, slowly pulling his focus away from the thoughts spiraling in his head.

jisung tried to ignore it, to just keep walking toward the staircase. but something - some instinct, some urge - pulled him back toward the noise. he didn't know why he had to look, but he did.

and there he was.

minho.

he was walking down the hallway, his head slightly bowed as he stared down at his phone, completely oblivious to the world around him. his body language was all too familiar: shoulders relaxed, chin tilted slightly down, hair hanging messily around his face.

to anyone else, minho probably seemed like just another student passing through the hallways. but to jisung?

he was everything.

jisung froze in place. his heart slammed against his ribs like a drumbeat, louder than the muffled chatter of students around him. his eyes locked onto minho's figure, unable to look away.

for a moment, everything slowed down. the buzzing of the hallway, the sounds of shoes scraping against the floor, and the voices of the other students faded away. it was just minho and him. just those few fleeting seconds.

and then, minho looked up.

it was like the universe had conspired to make that moment happen. minho's eyes shifted upward at the exact same time jisung's eyes met his.

their gazes locked for just a fraction of a second - long enough for jisung to feel the weight of it, long enough for his heart to stop beating.

and then minho walked past him.

he was so close.

jisung could feel the warmth of minho's presence as if it was radiating off of him. the sound of minho's footsteps was all jisung could hear now, and he found himself unable to move, trapped in the space between what was happening and what could have been.

his breath was shallow, his mouth hanging slightly open as his mind tried to process what had just occurred. his feet were stuck to the floor, as if his legs had decided to betray him in that one perfect, heart-stopping moment.

he had never been this close to minho before. not this close in real life. sure, he had seen him from a distance, watched him pass by during lunch, or when he was getting off his motorcycle, but this?

this was different.

jisung could almost feel the air shifting as minho walked by, could almost feel the heat of his body lingering just out of reach. it wasn't just a passing moment; it was a chance to truly see him.

jisung took in everything. minho's sharp features, the way his jawline cut through the air like a blade. his brows, sculpted to perfection, arching effortlessly above eyes that seemed cold and composed, yet somehow intensely focused. his nose - the sharpness of it, the way it seemed too perfect to belong to a real person.

every little detail jisung had only noticed from afar, he could now study up close.

but it was the bags under minho's eyes that made jisung's chest tighten.

wait. bags under his eyes?

jisung frowned, his brows furrowing as the realization hit him like a sudden gust of wind. he closed his eyes, trying to lock in on the memory of minho's face, replaying it in his mind. yes. there it was. those faint shadows beneath minho's eyes. a little darker than usual, like he hadn't gotten enough sleep.

it was a small detail, something so insignificant that most people wouldn't have even noticed, but jisung couldn't shake the thought.

why had minho been so tired? was he okay?

jisung opened his eyes again, almost unconsciously, his gaze searching the hallway for any sign of minho. he looked back, hoping against hope that minho was still there, that maybe he would turn around or stop, but minho was already out of sight. he had disappeared into the crowd, his figure swallowed by the flow of students. the air felt suddenly empty without him.

jisung stood there for a few moments, rooted in place, still trying to process the intense rush of emotions. his heart was still pounding in his chest, but now there was a strange, lingering ache there. he had been so close, so painfully close, but the space between them had remained just as wide as it always was.

his feet finally moved, his body feeling like it was moving through thick molasses, unwilling to leave the spot where minho had stood, but eventually, he made his way toward his next lecture.

the hallway buzzed around him, but it felt like it was moving in slow motion, the world continuing as it always had, while his heart was still stuck in that brief, impossible moment.

he couldn't stop thinking about minho. how he had looked, how he had smelled faintly of cologne, and how his eyes had seemed to brush against his in a way that made Jisung's stomach flip.

but that was all. nothing more.

he would never be more than a bystander in minho's world.

as he walked into his lecture hall, the sounds of the students chatting around him seemed distant, muffled. jisung sat down in his usual seat, staring at the desk in front of him, but his mind was still back in the hallway, still with minho. the ache in his chest wouldn't go away.

what did it mean? that one brief, fleeting moment?

was it a sign?

or was it just another cruel reminder of how far out of reach minho would always be?

jisung couldn't tell, and he didn't have the answer. all he knew was that no matter how many notes he wrote, no matter how many times he watched from a distance, he would always be on the outside looking in.

and somehow, that hurt more than anything else.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

minho's footsteps echoed down the nearly deserted hallway. the late afternoon sun filtered through the high windows, casting long shadows on the polished floors.

most students had already left, their chatter and laughter fading into the cool evening air. but minho was still here, his pace slow, his mind cluttered and frayed at the edges from the exhausting day.

he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to ignore the dull ache throbbing at his temples. the lack of sleep was catching up with him, each restless night stacking upon the one before until he was running purely on muscle memory and caffeine.

but it was more than that. his thoughts had been tangled up in something else recently, something he didn't want to admit had been bothering him. or rather, someone.

the notes.

the first time he had found one in his locker, he'd laughed. well, not really laughed. more like scoffed at the ridiculousness of it. some cowardly admirer leaving little notes like it was some sort of cheesy high school romance? it was stupid. silly.

and yet, he had read every single one of them.

the first ones were nothing special. empty compliments like, "you looked so cool today." "your smile is amazing." "you make the hallway look better just by being there."

cringe-worthy, he had thought. dumb and pointless, so he had crumpled them up and thrown them away without a second thought. but they kept coming. week after week, folded slips of paper shoved into his locker. no name, no explanation.

but there was a desperation to them, something sincere hiding beneath the awkward words. and minho had eventually stopped throwing them away.

he didn't even know why. it wasn't like he cared who was writing them. it wasn't like he was actually waiting to find one every day. no. that wasn't it. not at all.

except it was.

he knew it, and it was beginning to drive him insane.

minho's footsteps slowed as he reached his locker. his hand hesitated on the metal handle, his chest tightening with something he refused to label as anticipation. it was stupid, really. the idea of caring whether there was a note waiting for him or not. it was just someone playing games, right?

but his stupid heart still stuttered just for a second when he opened the door and saw it.

another folded note, sitting there like it was waiting just for him.

it was the second note for today. the first was the "you looked so cool." one, nothing special. but a small part of him hoped that this one is going to be different, somehow.

he was an idiot, wasn't he?

he reached for it before he could second-guess himself, fingers curling around the small piece of paper. his throat felt dry as he unfolded it, his eyes already scanning the words before he even realized what he was doing.

> you looked tired today. you should take a nap when you get home. take care of yourself.

minho's eyebrows furrowed. tired? well, yeah, he was tired. it had been another late night of studying, assignments piling up because his professors seemed to have a vendetta against anyone wanting a decent night's sleep. he hadn't even tried to hide it, his usual mask of confidence slipping more than once throughout the day.

but how had they noticed?

they had noticed.

whoever was writing these notes had been paying attention. really paying attention.

his fingers tightened around the paper, his jaw clenching as his mind whirled. this was different. all the other notes had been shallow compliments or simple declarations of how "cool" or "awesome" he supposedly was. nothing that suggested the person behind them had actually seen him.

but this note... this was something else.

they had noticed the bags under his eyes. the exhaustion dragging his shoulders down. the way he'd struggled to keep his attention from drifting during lectures.

and then, at the end...

> take care of yourself.

those words clung to him like a persistent shadow, burrowing beneath his skin and settling there, warm and uncomfortable. whoever was writing these notes... they cared.

that was the part that scared him.

because it was so much easier to pretend he didn't care about the stupid little notes. to act like they were just a nuisance or some childish prank. but now he couldn't ignore the sincerity behind them.

and even worse, the small part of him that wanted to believe those words were meant for him and him alone.

he shoved the note into his pocket, his fingers curling into a tight fist as he slammed his locker door shut with more force than necessary. the loud thud echoed down the hallway, but the noise didn't do anything to clear the confusion clouding his mind.

without another thought, he turned and stalked down the hallway, his footsteps heavy and his expression twisted into something between frustration and anxiety. his chest felt tight, his heartbeat unsteady as if those simple words had disrupted something fundamental inside him.

why did it matter so much? why couldn't he just brush it off like he had before?

maybe it was because no one had ever bothered to tell him to take care of himself. not like this. not like they genuinely meant it.

he stormed out of the building, the cool evening air hitting him like a slap in the face. it was refreshing, but not enough to clear his head. his feet moved automatically, carrying him toward the parking lot where his motorcycle waited. the only thing that felt real right now.

as he swung his leg over the seat and reached for his helmet, his fingers brushed against the pocket where the note was still tucked away. a bitter laugh slipped past his lips, the sound hollow and strange.

they cared.

whoever was writing those notes cared about him.

and minho hated how much he wanted to believe it.

the ride home was a blur, his mind lost in a tangled mess of thoughts and emotions he couldn't untangle. it was all too much, the curiosity, the irritation, the faint, unwanted warmth that had seeped into his chest from those stupidly simple words.

> take care of yourself.

that night, minho tossed and turned in bed, his mind refusing to let him rest. because even when he closed his eyes, the words stayed with him.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

jisung had been having a perfectly normal morning. well, as normal as his mornings could get when his brain was flooded with thoughts of minho.

it was like the guy had taken up permanent residence in his head, occupying every thought, every daydream, every fleeting wish jisung would never dare say out loud.

but nothing could've prepared him for this.

he had just stepped onto the university courtyard, the cool morning air ruffling his hair as he mumbled some nonsense to felix beside him. his fingers curled around the straps of his backpack, his steps light and hurried.

he was only half-paying attention to felix, his gaze automatically drifting toward the main building, where minho usually appeared around this time.

and there he was.

fuck.

that was the only coherent thought his mind managed to form as he saw minho striding across the courtyard, seungmin at his side. but honestly, seungmin could've been a tree for all jisung cared. his attention was solely fixed on minho.

minho was wearing his usual black leather jacket, sleek and effortlessly cool like he had just walked out of some action movie. the black t-shirt underneath clung to his chest just enough to leave jisung's mouth feeling dry. that was nothing new. minho always looked devastatingly good in black.

but the jeans.

minho was wearing tight black jeans.

not the loose, casual ones he often wore, but a pair that hugged his legs just right, accentuating his thighs in a way that made jisung's brain short-circuit on the spot. his feet stopped moving, his entire body freezing as his eyes shamelessly traced the outline of those thighs.

god.

was it even possible for thighs to look that perfect? they were solid and toned, muscles straining beneath the fabric as minho walked, his usual confident swagger making the whole thing ten times worse.

jisung could barely breathe. his fingers twitched with the sudden, ridiculous urge to reach out and touch, to feel the warmth of those thighs under his palms.

he wanted to kiss them.
he wanted to be crushed by them.
he wanted-

he was a freak. he was a complete freak.

"dude, are you okay?"

felix's voice cut through the fog of desire clouding jisung's mind. but it was distant, an annoying buzz in the background. jisung's throat was dry, his lips parted as he stared, completely and utterly gone.

"shut up," he whispered, his voice shaky and wrecked, not even glancing at felix.

he didn't care that he was standing in the middle of the courtyard like a total idiot, his eyes glued to minho. his gaze climbed up from minho's thighs to the rest of him, taking in the broad shoulders, the slightly tousled hair, the sharp jawline that looked like it had been sculpted by angels.

jisung couldn't look away. no matter how desperately his rational mind screamed at him to get his shit together, his body refused to listen.

and then, just when jisung thought it couldn't get any worse, minho turned his head.

their eyes locked.

jisung's entire world narrowed down to that single moment. everything around him faded away, the sounds of chatter, the distant laughter, the rustling of leaves - all of it dissolved into nothing. it was just him and minho, staring at each other across the courtyard.

for a split second, jisung couldn't breathe. his chest was tight, his pulse a frantic beat echoing in his ears. he expected minho to look away, to roll his eyes or brush him off like he always did with the random people who tried to catch his attention.

but he didn't.

minho's gaze didn't waver. his expression remained unreadable, cool and calm like it always was. but his eyes were fixed on jisung, acknowledging him in a way that felt like a punch to the gut.

what the fuck was happening?

jisung's cheeks were burning, his skin prickling with the overwhelming realization that minho was looking at him. actually looking at him. and still, he couldn't tear his gaze away. his feet were rooted to the ground, his body refusing to cooperate.

but then the panic settled in, crashing over him like a tidal wave. his eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat. this wasn't supposed to happen. minho wasn't supposed to notice him. he was supposed to stay in his corner, admiring from afar, writing his stupid little notes and running away before anyone could see.

he was supposed to be invisible.

but now minho was looking at him.

fuck.

before he could even process what he was doing, his legs finally responded. he whipped his entire body around, doing a full 180 and walking away so fast he nearly stumbled over his own feet. his steps were hurried and unsteady, his heart pounding so violently he was sure the entire courtyard could hear it.

"fuck, fuck, fuck." the words tumbled from his lips like a desperate prayer, his pulse thrumming in his ears. he couldn't believe it. he had just made direct eye contact with lee minho. and worse - minho hadn't looked away.

he could feel felix's gaze burning into his back, his friend's confused voice calling after him. but jisung didn't stop, didn't even bother to glance over his shoulder. his only goal was to get away, as far away as possible before he embarrassed himself even more.

god, he was so fucked. so, so completely fucked.

the rest of the morning passed in a blur, his brain too frazzled to concentrate on anything but the lingering heat of minho's gaze. his body felt jittery, his fingers trembling as he tried to take notes in his lecture, the words smudging messily across the page.

he couldn't get minho's face out of his head. the sharpness of his jawline, the intensity of his eyes, the way his entire presence seemed to radiate confidence. and those thighs. god, those thighs. jisung was going to lose his mind.

but there was something else. something more terrifying than his embarrassing crush. because the moment their eyes had met, jisung had seen something flicker in minho's gaze. something that felt a little too close to recognition.

had minho figured it out?

was it possible that minho had started to connect the dots? that maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to suspect who was leaving all those stupid little notes in his locker?

jisung's stomach twisted uncomfortably, his mind racing with all the worst-case scenarios. but there was no time to dwell on it. not now. all he could do was keep his head down, hope for the best, and try not to completely fall apart.

even if he already was.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

minho didn't know why he was in a bad mood that morning.

maybe it was the fact that he only managed three hours of sleep last night thanks to the endless assignments piling up.

maybe it was the persistent ache in his shoulder from hunching over his laptop for way too long. or maybe it was just one of those days where everything felt slightly off.

either way, he was in no mood for people today. which meant ignoring the usual stares as he walked across the courtyard with seungmin by his side.

it was routine at this point. his appearance always drew attention, though he never cared much about it. the black leather jacket and motorcycle probably didn't help either.

he knew the black jeans were a mistake the moment he pulled them on. but he'd been too tired to bother finding something else. and, well, he couldn't deny he looked good in them. the fit was perfect, hugging his legs and making him feel at least somewhat put together despite the sleep deprivation.

"are you even listening to me?" seungmin's voice cut through the haze of his thoughts.

"sure," minho replied, not bothering to look at him. his eyes were already sweeping over the crowd, a lazy habit he'd developed to keep himself occupied during their usual morning walk.

he was almost past the courtyard when something caught his attention.

someone was staring at him.

no, not just staring. full-on gawking like they'd just seen a ghost. or something far more interesting.

minho's gaze zeroed in on the person without even meaning to. his eyes locked onto the smaller boy standing like a statue in the middle of the courtyard, mouth slightly open, eyes wide and burning with something minho couldn't quite place.

it was that guy. the one with the messy hair and the oversized hoodie that looked like it was two sizes too big. jisung, minho's brain supplied, not even missing a beat.

he knew him. not personally. but he'd seen him around. loud, chaotic, and somehow always buzzing with energy whenever he was with his friends. his voice carried over crowds sometimes, that laugh bright and obnoxious and stupidly infectious.

but this jisung was... silent. completely frozen.

and staring directly at him.

minho's steps faltered for just a moment, his eyes narrowing as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. was he imagining things? maybe the lack of sleep was messing with his head.

but no. jisung was definitely staring. his eyes were glued to minho like he was seeing something that wasn't even real. like minho was something worth looking at.

minho's fingers twitched at his side, that familiar chill of discomfort prickling along his skin. being stared at was nothing new. he'd gotten used to it a long time ago. but this was... different. more focused. more intense.

and for some inexplicable reason, minho couldn't bring himself to look away.

there was something unsettlingly genuine in jisung's gaze. no mocking smirk or judgmental glint. just raw, unfiltered emotion. admiration? longing? whatever it was, it made minho's pulse skip a beat. and he hated that.

why couldn't he just look away?

the seconds dragged on, and minho's chest tightened the longer they stared at each other. it was like he was caught in some ridiculous staring contest where the only rule was to not break first.

but then, as if jisung's brain finally caught up with his body, his eyes widened in panic. pure, unfiltered panic.

minho's brows lifted, a flicker of curiosity sparking in his chest. he'd seen that look before. the look of someone caught doing something they weren't supposed to. like a kid with his hand stuck in the cookie jar.

and just like that, jisung spun on his heels so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. he was gone in an instant, practically running in the opposite direction like he'd just seen a ghost.

what the hell?

minho's gaze lingered on jisung's retreating figure, his thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and something else he couldn't quite name. it wasn't the first time he'd caught someone staring at him. but this time, it felt different.

and he hated how his curiosity wouldn't let it go.

"did that guy just sprint away from you like you're a serial killer or something?" seungmin asked, his voice deadpan and annoyingly observant.

minho didn't bother answering, his attention still fixed on the direction jisung had disappeared to. his chest felt tight, his mind already picking apart the details of what just happened.

jisung had looked at him like he was something worth admiring. like he was something precious. it made minho's skin prickle, his fingers clenching into fists before he forced them to relax.

whatever that was, it couldn't have been normal.

and it wasn't something he was going to forget anytime soon.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

jisung's face was on fire. his cheeks were practically glowing, his whole body buzzing with the sort of warmth that had nothing to do with the chilly air-conditioned classroom.

it was stupid, really. how a single moment of eye contact could reduce him to this embarrassing, blushing mess. but it had happened.

minho had looked at him.

and not just glanced his way or accidentally made eye contact and then looked away like anyone else would do. no, minho had held his gaze. actually looked at him like he was... like he was worth looking at.

the memory of it was replaying over and over in his mind, refusing to let him focus on anything else. jisung was half-listening to the professor's lecture, the voice nothing but a distant hum as he clutched his pen and stared at the blank piece of paper on his desk.

"you're so red," jeongin giggled from the seat beside him, voice low but still amused enough to draw jisung's attention.

jisung turned his head and shot the younger boy a scowl, but it was probably ruined by the fact that he still looked like he'd been standing in the sun for hours. he was probably red from his neck to his ears. great.

"shut up," jisung mumbled, his voice muffled as he tried to hide behind his hand. but jeongin's smirk only grew.

"what's gotten you all flustered? or should I say who?" jeongin said with a wiggle of his eyebrows, clearly enjoying how easy it was to get a reaction out of him.

"none of your business," jisung shot back, but even he could hear the weakness in his voice. because there was no point in denying it.

his whole body was still buzzing with the memory of minho's gaze locking onto him. of the way minho's eyes had narrowed slightly, curious, almost intrigued.

or maybe he was imagining that part. maybe minho was just trying to figure out why some random guy was staring at him like he was the most fascinating thing in the world.

but the point was, minho had seen him. he knew jisung existed.

it should have been mortifying. and it was. but it also made his heart soar in a way he wasn't sure he could explain.

he let his gaze fall to the piece of paper on his desk. his pen hovered over the empty space for a moment before his hand started moving, messy handwriting scrawling the words he couldn't seem to keep to himself.

> you look mesmerizing today.

his chest tightened just writing the words down, his fingers trembling slightly as he stared at the note. it was simple, too straightforward, but it was true.

minho had looked mesmerizing. unfairly, devastatingly mesmerizing. and it wasn't even like he was trying. the memory of those tight black jeans flashed in jisung's mind again, and he swore he nearly choked on his own breath.

those jeans were a crime against humanity. or at least against jisung's sanity. the way they hugged minho's thighs, his legs, every perfect line and curve-

"dude, you okay?" jeongin's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, and jisung nearly jumped out of his seat.

"yeah. fine. totally fine." the words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush, his hands clutching the note like it was the most precious thing in the world. he glanced at jeongin, who looked at him with blatant suspicion but thankfully didn't push.

the sight of minho in those tight black jeans returned in jisung's mind as uninvited guest the moment he stopped talking . he couldn't stop thinking about it.

okay, yeah, he was obsessed. he was fucking obsessed with minho's thighs. yeah, he was a freak. but can you blame him? have you seen minho's thighs? god they were just-

stop.

jisung cursed under his breath. god he was losing his mind.

jisung tried to breathe normally as the rest of the lecture crawled by, his fingers tapping against the desk in anxious anticipation. the moment the professor dismissed them, jisung was out of his seat and heading for the door with barely a word of goodbye to jeongin.

he was practically jogging down the hallway toward the lockers, heart pounding for a completely different reason now. the hallway was mostly empty, only a few students lingering by their lockers before lunch. jisung slipped the note into minho's locker as quickly as he could, his fingers trembling with both nerves and excitement.

another day. another note.

his chest felt lighter as he hurried away from the lockers, his steps quickening toward the cafeteria where he knew felix and jeongin were probably already waiting for him. but he couldn't resist scanning the crowd as he walked in. and there, at his usual table, was minho.

of course his eyes would find him first. they always did.

minho was sitting with seungmin and chan, his phone in one hand while he leaned back in his chair with that casual, almost lazy confidence that drove jisung insane.

but it wasn't just the confidence. it was the way minho's thighs were spread, his legs stretched out comfortably as he scrolled through his phone like he had all the time in the world. those tight jeans did nothing to hide the definition of his thighs, and jisung had to stop himself from gawking like a complete idiot.

fuck. jisung swallowed the embarrassing noise he wanted to let out.

his breath hitched, his eyes lingering a moment too long on the sight in front of him.

god. jisung was a mess. completely and utterly ruined by one guy's legs.

minho's hand was resting on his lap, fingers lazily tapping against his thigh as he scrolled through his phone. it was so casual, so unbothered, but all jisung could think about was how unfairly attractive he looked. and how badly jisung wanted to be anywhere near him.

he forced himself to look away, shaking his head as if that would somehow clear the mess of thoughts swirling around in his brain. his gaze landed on felix and jeongin, who were sitting at their usual table and chatting about something jisung didn't have the energy to care about.

fucked, that was what he was. completely fucked.

his feet moved on autopilot, his legs feeling like jelly even though he was just walking. and he probably looked like an idiot when he changed directions halfway across the cafeteria because he'd almost walked straight past their table.

jisung's legs were still shaking by the time he reached the table where felix and jeongin were waiting. it was like the universe was playing some cruel joke on him, torturing him with the mere sight of minho sitting like that. all casual confidence and raw perfection. those jeans. god, those stupidly tight jeans.

"dude, are you good?" felix asked, one eyebrow raised as he shoved a forkful of rice into his mouth.

"yeah, you look like you just saw someone die or something," jeongin added, though the little smirk playing on his lips told jisung he probably knew the truth already.

"I'm fine," jisung mumbled, dropping into his seat and immediately burying his face in his hands. "everything's fine. nothing's wrong."

"uh-huh," felix said, clearly unconvinced. "and that totally explains why your face is basically a tomato right now."

jisung let out a groan. "why does he have to be so- so-" he couldn't even find the right word. everything sounded stupid when he tried to describe how minho made him feel. the tight chest, the stuttering heartbeat, the insane urge to just... be near him.

"hot?" jeongin offered.

"insanely hot?" felix added with a wicked grin.

"yes," jisung whined, his voice muffled by his hands. "it's so unfair. and the way he just- just sits there like he owns the whole goddamn room. like everyone else is just background noise."

jeongin snorted. "you're the background noise, dude."

"thank you for that absolutely soul-crushing reminder," jisung said, finally lifting his head and glaring at jeongin. "I really needed that."

jeongin shrugged. "I'm just saying. you're acting like he's some kind of untouchable deity. maybe he's just a dude with good thighs."

felix choked on his food at that, laughter bubbling up before he even managed to swallow. "good thighs? bro, minho's thighs are a national treasure."

"don't-" jisung groaned, clenching his fists. "don't talk about his thighs. please. I'm already struggling not to combust over here."

"wouldn't want you passing out over a pair of legs," felix chuckled, eyes glinting with amusement.

"it's not just the legs!" jisung argued, though his voice lowered to a frantic whisper. "it's everything. the way he walks. the way he looks at people like he's deciding whether they're worth his time. the way he-"

"wow, you're down bad," jeongin said, sounding almost impressed.

"no shit," jisung grumbled, slumping in his seat. his eyes drifted back to minho's table against his will, like a magnet pulling him in. minho was still leaning back, legs spread like he didn't have a care in the world. he wasn't even talking to chan or seungmin; just scrolling on his phone with that bored, distant expression on his face.

it shouldn't be so attractive. it really shouldn't. but of course, minho made it look like the hottest thing in the world.

jisung wondered if he'd even read the note he left in his locker. his fingers tingled at the thought of minho unfolding the paper, those sharp eyes tracing over the words jisung had scribbled down with trembling hands.

he looked mesmerizing today. that's what he wrote. simple and stupidly honest.

but what if minho thought it was creepy? what if he was just throwing those notes away without even reading them? what if this was all pointless and jisung was just making a complete idiot of himself?

"earth to jisung," felix's voice snapped him out of his downward spiral.

"wha- yeah, I'm here."

"dude, you're seriously out of it," felix said, though his eyes were softer than before. "maybe you should actually, you know, talk to him."

"ha. no." jisung scoffed. "you saw what happened this morning. he looked at me and I ran away like a terrified kitten. talking to him? not happening."

"I mean, he did look at you," jeongin pointed out, one eyebrow quirking up. "and he didn't look away. that's something."

jisung opened his mouth to argue, but then snapped it shut. because, well... it was true.

for the briefest moment, minho had actually looked at him. not just a passing glance or a dismissive flicker of attention. it was a real look. and it had lasted longer than it should have.

maybe jeongin was right. maybe it was something.

even if it was just curiosity or annoyance on minho's part, jisung would take it. because it meant minho noticed him. and as embarrassing and ridiculous as that was, it made jisung's heart flutter in a way he couldn't control.

the rest of lunch was a blur of conversation he only half-listened to. his gaze kept drifting toward minho's table, even though he knew he shouldn't keep looking. but his eyes had a mind of their own.

when he caught minho glancing his way for a split second, his breath hitched.

he really was completely fucked.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

two days later, jisung's hands trembled as he scribbled down the note, his words almost shaky from the frustration boiling under his skin. the bruises on minho's knuckles were the only thing he could think about since he saw them this morning. ugly, angry bruises marring the smooth, pale skin of minho's hands.

he'd spotted them when minho got off his motorcycle, his helmet tucked under his arm, hair ruffled and messy but somehow still perfect.

minho had been pulling his gloves off, tugging at the leather with that effortlessly cool, almost lazy grace that made jisung's heart stumble over itself. and then, there they were- the bruises.

jisung's chest tightened just thinking about it. sure, minho always looked a little too perfect for his own good. a little too untouchable. but this? the sight of those bruised knuckles reminded jisung that minho was still human.

human and reckless. because everyone at university knew that minho got into fights like other people went to parties. for the thrill of it. for the adrenaline rush that came with throwing punches and taking them just as easily.

it made jisung's stomach twist uncomfortably. the thought of minho being hurt - being hurt on purpose - made him feel sick. minho's knuckles were probably throbbing painfully, but he'd bet his life savings minho wasn't doing anything to treat them. minho would just let the pain simmer until it faded away.

and jisung hated it. hated how much he cared. hated how his chest ached at the thought of minho hurting himself over some pointless fight. hated how helpless it made him feel.

the only thing he wanted to do right now was to take minho's hands in his and kiss every bruise. but he couldn't. of course he couldn't.

because who was he to minho?
no one. just some random guy minho had glanced at twice. a nobody.

but he couldn't just leave it like this. not when his chest felt so tight with worry it was hard to breathe.

so he did the only thing he was good at.

he poured his worries into a note.

> were you fighting again? your knuckles are all bruised. you should stop fighting, I don't like seeing you hurt. it hurts me.

it was too honest. the kind of honesty jisung wouldn't dare speak out loud, not to anyone, and especially not to minho. but something about writing it down made it feel okay. like his words could be safely sealed away inside that tiny piece of paper, passed on without the humiliation of saying them face-to-face.

he folded the note with more care than usual, his fingers pressing down on the creases with gentle precision. then, he made his way towards the lockers, his heart beating wildly in his chest the whole time.

the hallways were mostly empty, just a few students lingering by their lockers or chatting by the windows.

jisung glanced around nervously before reaching minho's locker. he slid the note through the thin slit, his fingers lingering on the metal for a split second before he pulled away like he'd been burned.

and then he walked away.

his hands were still trembling when he reached the cafeteria, but he pasted a smile on his face as he spotted felix and jeongin already seated with trays of food.

"why do you always look like you've just committed a crime?" jeongin asked, eyebrow raised as jisung collapsed into the chair beside him.

"because he just did," felix snickered. "dropped off another love letter to his one and only."

yes, jisung had told them about the notes. well, not completely told them. felix had caught him in act one day and then he told jeongin and now here he was.

jisung groaned. "it's not a love letter."

"it's definitely a love letter," jeongin said. "but at this point, it's more like an obsession."

"shut up."

"I mean, I'm not judging," jeongin continued with a smirk. "just saying. the whole 'secret admirer leaving mysterious notes' thing is kinda romantic."

"except for the fact that it's not working," jisung grumbled, stabbing at his food with his fork.

felix gave him a sympathetic look. "you don't know that. maybe he's reading them. maybe he even likes them."

"yeah, right." jisung scoffed. "he probably thinks it's annoying. or creepy."

"maybe," jeongin said, shrugging. "or maybe he's just curious. trying to figure out who keeps leaving him all these notes."

jisung didn't respond. he just stared at his food, his appetite long gone. because as much as he wanted to believe what jeongin was saying, he knew the truth.

minho didn't care about him. didn't even know who he was. and even if he did, it's not like it would change anything.

minho was minho. perfect. confident. so far out of jisung's league that it wasn't even funny.

but that didn't stop him from writing the notes. didn't stop his chest from aching every time he saw minho with another bruise, another reminder of how recklessly he lived his life.

and it definitely didn't stop him from caring too much about someone who would never care about him back.

-
the afternoon was dragging by, lectures passing in a blur of words jisung couldn't seem to focus on. his mind kept drifting back to the note he'd left for minho.

what if minho was just throwing them away without reading them? what if he was laughing at jisung's stupid, desperate words with his friends?

the doubt gnawed at him, twisting his stomach into knots. but despite the fear and embarrassment, jisung knew he'd do it all over again tomorrow. because for some insane reason, writing those notes was the only thing that made him feel even a little closer to minho.

and he was too far gone to stop now.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

minho's fists still ached by the time he dragged himself to his locker that afternoon. he rolled his knuckles experimentally, wincing when the bruised skin stretched and throbbed with dull pain.

his latest fight hadn't been planned. just a run-in with some asshole who thought it'd be fun to push his buttons. and minho, reckless and restless as always, hadn't backed down.

the adrenaline had been addictive as usual, pumping through his veins like wildfire. but now? now all that remained was the ache and the exhaustion gnawing at his bones.

the hallway was mostly empty. just a couple of students lingering around, too caught up in their own lives to care about him. good. the last thing he needed was anyone asking him stupid questions about the bruises.

he reached his locker and hesitated. for a brief, infuriating moment, he actually wanted there to be another note. he wanted to find those dumb little words scribbled in messy handwriting, the kind of handwriting that looked like someone was always in a hurry, or maybe just too passionate to bother making it look neat.

he didn't care about those notes. he'd told himself that a thousand times already. but then why did his chest twist with something almost like excitement every time he opened his locker and found another one waiting for him?

he gritted his teeth and pulled open the metal door.

his eyes fell on the small, folded piece of paper almost instantly. right there on the top shelf, as if staring back at him.

minho snatched it up before he could talk himself out of it. the paper felt warm against his fingers, like it was holding onto the heat of the person who had left it there. it was ridiculous. stupid. but he couldn't help the way his heart picked up speed as he unfolded the note and read the words.

> were you fighting again? your knuckles are all bruised. you should stop fighting, I don't like seeing you hurt. it hurts me.

he stared at the note, eyes tracing the words again and again. they shouldn't have meant anything. just another stupid little letter from his supposed secret admirer. but these words felt different. more personal. more... real.

his bruised knuckles throbbed as if to remind him of the fight, of how it had felt to hit someone's jaw and feel the impact ripple up his arm. it was a thrill he chased too often, a thrill that left him feeling more empty than satisfied afterward.

the idea that someone out there cared about him was almost laughable.

but then why did it feel like his chest was tightening as he read the note over and over again?

he closed his eyes for a moment, the world around him blurring into nothingness. his tiredness caught up with him, weighing down his shoulders.

maybe that's why the words hit him so hard. because he was exhausted and vulnerable and his knuckles fucking hurt, and someone out there was worrying about him.

worrying about him.

the thought was enough to make him feel light-headed.

was it the same person who had written all the other notes? the cringy, overly flattering ones he'd thrown away so carelessly? whoever it was, they'd been doing this for weeks now. maybe longer. maybe minho had just been too much of an asshole to notice.

he folded the note back up and shoved it into his pocket, his fingers curling protectively around it. as if the words could somehow slip away if he wasn't careful enough.

and as he walked away from his locker, his footsteps echoing down the empty hallway, the words lingered in his mind. "it hurts me."

someone out there was hurt because he was hurt.

what the fuck was he supposed to do with that?

the walk home was unusually quiet. even his motorcycle, which usually roared to life with an angry growl, sounded muted and distant. his thoughts were too loud. too sharp.

he found himself gripping the handlebars too tightly, his sore knuckles screaming in protest as he made his way through the city streets. by the time he reached his apartment, his mind was still churning, restless and frustrated and something he couldn't quite name.

the apartment was dark and quiet, the air stale and cold. minho kicked off his shoes and tossed his keys onto the counter, the clatter of metal breaking the silence. he wanted to sleep. god, he was so fucking tired.

but instead, he found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, the note still clutched tightly in his hand. his fingers traced the edges of the paper, over and over again, like he was trying to absorb the words through his skin.

> you should stop fighting.
> I don't like seeing you hurt.
> it hurts me.

his hand tightened around the note. it was stupid. so, so stupid. some random person caring about him? what a joke.

but the thought wouldn't leave him alone.

the concern in those words clung to him like smoke, wrapping itself around his mind and refusing to let go. it made him feel something he couldn't quite name. something that wasn't anger or boredom or that hollow rush he got from fighting.

something warmer. something that made his bruised knuckles feel just a little less painful.

he sighed and set the note down on his nightstand, his gaze lingering on it even as he leaned back against his pillows. his eyes burned from lack of sleep, his body aching from both exhaustion and the fight, but his mind was still stuck on the note.

maybe tomorrow there would be another one.

maybe he was starting to hope there would be.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

it was getting ridiculous, really. the way jisung's eyes would always find minho's figure before he even realized he was looking for him.

it was like some magnetic force was constantly pulling his gaze in that direction, no matter where he was or what he was doing. and he hated how easy it had become to spot minho from afar.

today was no exception. jisung's eyes immediately landed on minho as soon as he stepped outside the building, his gaze drawn to where minho was leaning against the wall, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his posture relaxed and effortlessly cool.

he was talking with chan and changbin, and even from a distance, jisung could hear their boisterous laughter. minho had that smirk on his face, the one that made him look like he owned the whole goddamn campus.

but jisung's eyes didn't linger on the smirk or the confident tilt of minho's head. no, they locked onto the faint shadows beneath minho's eyes, the way his shoulders seemed just a little too tense, even as he laughed along with his friends.

the bruises on minho's knuckles had healed, the angry reds and purples now faded to pale yellowish tones, almost gone. jisung was relieved to see that. but the exhaustion on minho's face? that was new.

he shouldn't care. he really shouldn't. minho wasn't his friend, wasn't even his acquaintance. just some guy who lived in his daydreams and haunted his thoughts more often than not. but the concern twisted at jisung's gut anyway, sharp and relentless.

jisung didn't even notice that he was frowning.

why did minho look so tired? had he gotten into another fight recently? or was it something else?

jisung couldn't tell, and it bothered him more than it should. his fingers clenched around the strap of his backpack, his legs moving before his brain could even process what he was doing.

he found himself in front of the vending machine. jisung dug his hands into his pocket, feeling the cool metal of the coins he always kept there.

his fingers trembled slightly as he pushed the coins into the slot, his eyes darting back to where minho was still leaning against the wall, head tilted back slightly as he laughed at something changbin said.

the energy drink clattered down, the sound loud in the relative quiet of the hallway. jisung grabbed it quickly, holding the cold can in his hand as if it could ground him, steady him.

he took a deep breath and sat down on the bench near the vending machine, pulling his notebook and pen from his backpack. his fingers moved on their own, the words flowing out of him without hesitation.

> you look tired. hope this helps. and take care of yourself better. (check on top of the lockers.)

he stared at the note for a moment, the messy scrawl of his handwriting mocking him. this was stupid. why was he doing this? why couldn't he just ignore minho like everyone else?

but then his eyes flickered back to minho, and the exhaustion in those dark eyes seemed more noticeable now, more evident even from a distance. jisung's heart twisted painfully. he hated this. hated seeing minho like this.

maybe it was selfish. maybe it was stupid. but he just wanted to help. even if it was something as small as leaving an energy drink and a note that minho would probably throw away or ignore.

he folded the note carefully and grabbed the can, his steps quick and purposeful as he made his way toward the lockers. he couldn't afford to hesitate. not now.

he hovered around the lockers, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure everyone around him could hear it. a couple of students passed by, chatting and laughing as they headed toward their classes. jisung waited until they disappeared around the corner before he stepped forward.

his fingers trembled slightly as he slipped the note into minho's locker. the action had become a habit by now, his own little ritual. but this time, there was more urgency in the movement. more desperation.

jisung rose up on his tiptoes and carefully placed the energy drink on top of the lockers, making sure it wouldn't roll off. it wasn't much, but it was all he could do.

his chest felt tight as he stepped back, his eyes lingering on the locker for a moment longer than necessary. he wondered if minho would even notice the drink. would he even care? probably not. but at least jisung had done something. at least he'd tried.

satisfied - or as satisfied as he could be - jisung spun on his heel and made his way to his next class, his hands curled into fists in the pockets of his hoodie.

the rest of the day passed by in a blur. jisung couldn't focus on his classes, his thoughts constantly drifting back to the note, the energy drink, and minho's tired face.

was minho okay? had he found the drink? or was it still sitting on top of the lockers, forgotten and untouched?

jisung clenched his jaw and forced himself to listen to the lecture, his knee bouncing up and down as his anxiety twisted his stomach into knots.

he was being stupid. ridiculous. he was acting like some obsessed freak who couldn't get a single guy out of his head. and maybe that's what he was.

but jisung didn't care. not when he kept picturing minho's exhausted face over and over again.

by the time the final lecture of the day ended, jisung was practically sprinting out of the classroom, desperate to get home and drown his thoughts in loud music and whatever comfort food he could find.

but no matter how much he tried to distract himself, the image of minho's tired eyes wouldn't leave him alone.

so he decided to pass by the lockers on his way out.

the energy drink wasn't there anymore.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

minho's day was dragging, each hour feeling heavier than the last. his body felt sluggish, his mind clouded by exhaustion that no amount of caffeine seemed to shake off.

he had spent the entire night replaying an argument he had with his parents, the anger and frustration burning in his chest until he eventually wore himself out.

so, he did what he always did when his thoughts became too loud - he worked out, sparred with chan, and ended up collapsing into bed way too late. sleep had been a cruel tease, offering him a few scattered hours that did nothing to ease the fatigue clinging to his bones.

but he forced himself through the morning anyway. stumbling through lectures, pretending to listen while his mind drifted. the only thing keeping him awake was his phone and the occasional sarcastic comments from changbin or seungmin, who were far too perceptive for their own good.

"dude, you look like shit," changbin had pointed out in his usual blunt tone when minho showed up late to lunch. "are you even sleeping?"

minho had shrugged, mumbling something about late-night workouts and assignments, which was partially true. he didn't mention the actual reason. didn't want to.

but now, standing in front of his locker in the emptying hallway, he felt the exhaustion gnawing at him even more. the familiar weight of his leather jacket felt suffocating, and he wanted nothing more than to get home and collapse on his bed.

he tugged his locker door open, his eyes catching something that made him still.

a folded piece of paper was waiting for him.

another note.

his hand trembled slightly as he reached for it, the exhaustion briefly replaced by something else - something annoyingly warm and persistent that he couldn't seem to shake. he unfolded the paper and read the words scrawled in that familiar, messy handwriting:

> you look tired. hope this helps. and take care of yourself better. (check on top of the lockers.)

he blinked, his brow furrowing as he read the words again.

whoever was writing these stupid notes had noticed he was tired. again. how? was he looking that awful these days? minho let out a frustrated sigh, his fingers gripping the note a little too tightly.

but his gaze drifted upward, his curiosity winning over his irritation. and sure enough, sitting on top of the lockers was a can of energy drink.

minho's lips parted in surprise. this was new. sure, the notes had been coming for weeks now, but no one had left him anything else before. no one had gone out of their way to do something like this.

for him.

he reached up and grabbed the can, his fingers cold against the metal. it was the same brand he always drank when he was staying up late to study or train. the person must have been watching him for a while to even know that. and that made his stomach twist with something he couldn't quite place.

the hallway was mostly empty now, the sounds of distant conversations fading into silence. minho leaned against the row of lockers, the note still clutched in his hand as he stared at the can of energy drink like it held all the answers he was searching for.

why were they doing this? whoever they were. why bother leaving him notes and drinks when they clearly got nothing in return?

was this some kind of joke? a prank? the paranoia nagged at him, whispering ugly thoughts into his exhausted mind. but then he remembered all the previous notes.

> you looked so cool today.
> I hope you have a good day.
> you looked tired today. you should take a nap when you get home. take care of yourself.

the words were always simple, but the intent behind them felt genuine. like the person writing them actually cared.

minho let out a humorless chuckle. cared. no one cared about him, not really. people liked his confidence, his sharp tongue, the way he seemed untouchable. but care?

no. that was a joke.

except... he couldn't stop himself from cracking open the can of energy drink and taking a long sip. the familiar sweetness washed over his tongue, cold and refreshing. the bitterness of the day eased just a little, the tiredness in his limbs lifting just enough for him to feel functional again.

he folded the note neatly and shoved it into his pocket. he didn't throw them away anymore. no matter how stupid they were.

because some part of him - some idiotic, desperate part - wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, the notes were real. that someone out there was actually thinking about him.

maybe it was curiosity that kept him from throwing the notes away. maybe it was something more.

but whatever it was, it had him scanning the hallways more often than not, his eyes searching for something - someone - he couldn't quite place.

the note's words kept echoing in his mind as he walked away from his locker, energy drink in hand.

> take care of yourself better.

the words were simple. but they felt real. and minho didn't know how to feel about that.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

jisung was in a foul mood, which was unusual for him. he prided himself on his easygoing nature, the way he could brush off most things with a shrug or a sarcastic quip. but today, his patience had worn thin.

he had been sitting in the courtyard, waiting for felix and jeongin to show up so they could grab lunch together. his headphones were snug over his ears, but he wasn't playing music. he liked the quiet sometimes, liked listening to the distant hum of conversation and footsteps.

except the conversation he overheard was anything but pleasant.

two guys, probably in their third year if he had to guess, were standing a few feet away, leaning against the stone wall as they talked. loudly.

"seriously, who the fuck does minho think he is?" the guy with shaggy hair scoffed, his voice dripping with annoyance. "always strutting around like he's so much better than everyone else. like his shit doesn't stink."

"right?" his friend chimed in, laughter laced with cruelty. "he acts like he owns the place. never talks to anyone unless it's to put them down. can't believe people actually think he's cool. he's just a fucking asshole."

jisung's hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms as he stared at the ground. his jaw was so tight it ached. he wanted to stand up and yell at them, tell them they had no idea what the hell they were talking about.

minho wasn't like that. sure, he could be cold and distant, but jisung had watched him enough to know that it wasn't arrogance. it was just... how minho was.

he kept himself closed off, like he'd built walls so thick no one could see inside. but jisung saw enough. enough to know that minho wasn't cruel. he was just careful. careful with his words, careful with who he let in.

and that was okay. that was more than okay.

the assholes kept talking, their words growing nastier, and jisung felt his blood boiling. his fingers itched to throw something at them, to yell, to do something.

but he didn't. because what would be the point? it's not like minho would care if jisung defended him. minho probably didn't even remember that jisung existed most days.

he stayed silent, letting their words eat away at him until the guys wandered off, their laughter still ringing in his ears.

by the time felix and jeongin showed up, jisung was practically shaking with irritation.

"what's got you looking like you're ready to murder someone?" felix asked, eyes wide as he dropped into the seat across from jisung. jeongin slid in beside him, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"nothing," jisung mumbled, his fingers twisting the strap of his backpack. his anger was simmering just beneath his skin, hot and uncomfortable.

jeongin frowned, clearly not believing him. "you look like you're about to explode, hyung. what happened?"

"just... some idiots talking shit," jisung said, trying to keep his tone even. "it's nothing."

"about who?" felix asked, leaning forward with concern.

jisung hesitated. "minho."

jeongin's eyebrows shot up. "and you care because...?"

jisung faltered, his gaze dropping to his clenched fists. "I just... it's bullshit. people saying crap about someone they don't even know."

felix and jeongin exchanged glances, but thankfully didn't push the subject. jisung forced himself to relax, to unclench his hands and breathe slowly. he tried to focus on their conversation, but the words he overheard kept repeating in his head.

how could people talk about minho like that? like he was some arrogant jerk who didn't care about anyone.

they didn't know him. they didn't see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his fingers sometimes shook from fatigue. they didn't see the bruises on his knuckles, proof of something deeper that minho didn't share with anyone.

they didn't see the way minho's eyes softened just a little whenever someone did something kind for him, even if he tried to hide it.

but jisung saw it all. and it was enough to make his heart ache.

after lunch, jisung wandered the hallways, his feet carrying him to the vending machine he always stopped by. he slipped in his coins, the clinking sound somehow soothing.

once he had the drink in hand, he sat on the bench nearby and pulled out a piece of paper. his hands were trembling slightly as he scribbled down his words, his frustration pouring onto the page.

> I wish I could make you smile. you deserve to be happy.

because it was true. as much as jisung was angry, as much as his chest still burned with irritation over what those idiots had said, his main emotion was concern. concern that minho was hurting, that no one else seemed to see it.

he folded the note carefully and tucked it into his hoodie pocket. he knew his classes were over for the day, but minho still had one lecture left. so, he made his way to the lockers, the hallway blissfully empty.

with practiced ease, he slipped the note into minho's locker, his fingers lingering on the cool metal for just a moment. as if his touch could somehow convey all the emotions he couldn't put into words.

he didn't leave anything else this time. just the note. because today, the words were enough.

jisung left the hallway with his head down, his heart thudding painfully against his ribs. he didn't know why he kept doing this. why he kept writing these stupid notes for someone who probably wouldn't even care.

but minho deserved to be happy. and if jisung couldn't be the one to make him happy, at least he could let minho know that someone cared.

even if he had to stay a nobody.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the air was buzzing with an unusual tension as minho walked across the courtyard alongside chan and changbin. his hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket, expression unreadable, but his gaze was sharp.

the usual ease of their conversations felt disrupted somehow, like there was something prickling just under his skin. maybe it was the restless energy from another bad night of sleep. maybe it was something else entirely.

the first thing minho noticed as he walked toward seungmin and the group of strangers was the faintest flicker of annoyance deep in his chest. it wasn't the strangers themselves; he couldn't care less about who seungmin decided to hang around with. it was just... he wasn't used to seeing him with other people besides chan and changbin.

"who's that?" minho asked, his tone clipped, eyes fixed on the unfamiliar figure standing too close to seungmin.

"hyunjin." chan answered casually, as if the name was supposed to mean something.

minho raised an eyebrow. his eyes drifted to the guy with the buzz cut, who looked like he was having way too much fun bothering seungmin. his expression was soft, puppy-like, which made him look out of place next to seungmin's usual icy demeanor.

that, at least, was interesting. but minho's attention shifted quickly to the three other people standing with them, their backs to him.

"hi guys," changbin greeted cheerfully as they reached the group.

seungmin glanced at them, nodded, and replied with his usual lack of enthusiasm. "hey."

at seungmin's greeting, the others finally turned around to face them. and that's when minho's eyes landed on him.

jisung.

and suddenly, minho's world felt like it was tilting slightly off its axis.

his gaze latched onto jisung's almost automatically, like his eyes didn't even consider looking anywhere else. jisung looked startled, wide eyes growing even wider the moment their eyes met. and even from a distance, minho could see the red tint blooming on jisung's cheeks.

minho's heart did something weird, a flutter that made his chest feel heavy and light all at once. he couldn't quite put a finger on why that was. why his gaze kept gravitating toward the smaller boy whenever he was around.

it was ridiculous. minho had seen him in passing before, always hovering around that loud guy with bleached hair and the taller kid with the sly grin. but today... it was like everything else faded.

fuck, there it was again. that rush of something unfamiliar every time he looked at this guy. and god, why couldn't he look away?

because jisung was staring right at him, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. and he looked... beautiful.

"guys, this is hyunjin," seungmin said, sounding so bored it was almost impressive.

hyunjin whined beside him, nudging seungmin's arm with a dramatic pout. minho's gaze only briefly flickered to them before drifting right back to jisung.

seungmin let out a long-suffering sigh, like this was all just too much effort for him. "guys, this is hyunjin, my boyfriend."

the word boyfriend was barely out of seungmin's mouth before hyunjin was beaming, shaking seungmin's arm like a hyperactive puppy. "I'm his boyfriend! did you hear that? boyfriend!" he was shaking seungmin's arm with such enthusiasm that minho was half-sure seungmin's arm would fall off.

"yeah, we got it," seungmin sighed, rolling his eyes, but the small smile tugging at his lips didn't go unnoticed.

but minho couldn't care less about their dynamic right now. his focus was solely on jisung.

jisung, who looked like he was about to have a nervous breakdown just from making eye contact.

the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. and minho couldn't look away.

jisung's whole body seemed to stiffen under his gaze, his chest heaving like he couldn't get enough air. his expression was like an open book - wide eyes, parted lips, and a faint pinkness creeping up his cheeks that looked suspiciously like a blush. minho's chest tightened, his heart pounding a little too hard.

jisung's lips parted slightly, and minho couldn't help but notice how soft they looked, how-

fuck.

"jisung!" felix's voice cut through the tension like a knife, making jisung jerk in surprise.

he practically jumped out of his skin, eyes wild and arms folded protectively over his chest. "what? what!" his voice came out way too high-pitched, and felix was laughing softly.

"you still with us, ji?" felix teased, grinning knowingly.

minho's eyes narrowed, his fingers curling a little tighter in his pockets. jisung's gaze flickered toward him for the briefest moment before darting away again, like looking at him was too much. and somehow, that tiny reaction made something clench in minho's chest.

"yeah," jisung mumbled, but he sounded so weak, so not like the guy minho saw hanging around the campus with felix and jeongin, usually laughing or making stupid jokes. the guy who was usually glowing with energy seemed so shy now. it was... cute.

god, what the hell was wrong with him?

he didn't even notice chan nudging him until the warmth of an elbow pressing into his ribs pulled him out of his trance.

"you were gone for a moment, huh?" chan's voice pulled minho back to the present, his smirk practically dripping with amusement.

"shut up." minho glared at him, the words snapping out before he could stop them.

"aw, come on. you were just staring. for, like, forever."

"don't make me punch you."

"yeah, yeah, mr. grumpy cat," changbin let out a snicker from behind him, and minho whipped his head around to send him a murderous glare. that shut him up real fast.

meanwhile, seungmin was sighing dramatically again. "I'm hungry. are we-"

"you're hungry?!" hyunjin interrupted with more enthusiasm than any human should have. he immediately grabbed seungmin's hand, his expression a mixture of concern and excitement. "let's go eat! my baby is hungry!"

without waiting for any sort of response, hyunjin was dragging seungmin away toward the cafeteria, their voices fading as they bickered.

that left felix, jeongin, and jisung standing awkwardly with chan, changbin, and minho. the silence was thick, uncomfortable, and minho's gaze kept flickering back to jisung.

"that leaves us then," chan said with an amused grin, his gaze sliding between minho and jisung. minho narrowed his eyes, already hating whatever was brewing in chan's mind.

jisung, who was staring very intently at the ground like it held the secrets to the universe. his cheeks were still dusted pink, his shoulders hunched a little too tightly.

"uh... hi! I'm felix!" the freckled boy grinned and waved, always the friendly one. "that's jeongin over here and that's-" he gestured towards jisung, who looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

"uh, that's jisung," felix said with a small chuckle.

"ah," chan nodded, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I'm chan, that's changbin, and the grumpy cat over here is minho."

"do you know seungmin?" changbin asked, eyeing the three of them with mild curiosity.

jeongin smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "we know hyunjin hyung, and he wanted to introduce us to his boyfriend. so... now we know seungmin hyung, too."

felix nodded eagerly, but his eyes kept flickering over to jisung, who was still acting like a malfunctioning robot.

minho's eyes hadn't left jisung either. he wasn't sure why, but something about him was... captivating. and slightly infuriating.

jisung seemed to snap out of his daze when felix nudged him. his head whipped up, his gaze meeting minho's for the briefest moment before he tore his eyes away, face still impossibly red.

"uh, y-yeah," jisung stammered, the words awkward and breathless. he looked like he wanted to crawl under the floor and hide forever.

felix just sighed and shook his head while jeongin giggled.

and yet, minho's eyes kept drifting back to him. he couldn't stop himself. couldn't help but wonder why his eyes seemed so bright, like they held secrets minho couldn't quite grasp.

it was chan who broke the silence. "do you want to grab lunch with us?"

jisung's head snapped up so quickly minho was sure he heard something crack. his eyes were comically wide, his lips parting in shock.

felix didn't even hesitate. "we would love to!" he said, a smirk appearing on his lips.

minho's eyebrows rose slightly. was that panic flickering across jisung's face? he watched as jisung spluttered something incoherent under his breath, his shoulders hunched like he was trying to make himself smaller.

and for some reason, minho found himself... amused. curious. intrigued.

because no one ever reacted to him like that. and maybe, just maybe, he wanted to see more of it.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the cafeteria was loud and chaotic, as usual. a constant hum of overlapping conversations, the clinking of trays and utensils, and the occasional shout from one of the more energetic groups.

minho's senses prickled at the noise, but he was used to it. usually, he could tune everything out and focus on his friends. usually.

today, however, his attention was fractured. his gaze kept shifting back to jisung, who looked like he was actively regretting his life choices.

it was almost funny how nervous the guy seemed. every time minho glanced his way, jisung's eyes would dart to something else, anywhere else. like the ceiling or the floor was somehow the most interesting thing in the world.

seungmin and hyunjin were already sitting at one of the tables, talking to each other, smiling, teasing. the others also sat at the table, falling into conversations.

chan and felix were deep in conversation about something stupidly loud and chaotic, as always. something about a ridiculous campus event they'd both somehow gotten roped into organizing. changbin was contributing occasionally, grumbling about how their ideas sounded like a recipe for disaster.

but minho? his mind was elsewhere.

he couldn't help it. there was something about jisung that made him restless. the guy was practically radiating nerves, and yet... minho couldn't seem to look away.

and it pissed him off because what the fuck was wrong with him? it was like something about jisung called to him, like the universe was playing some cosmic joke and minho was the punchline.

the cafeteria line was longer than usual when they decided to grab food, so they all ended up standing awkwardly in the queue. jisung kept fidgeting, his fingers twitching like he didn't know what to do with them. it was kind of adorable. not that minho would ever admit that. not even to himself.

"so," changbin said, eyeing felix's dramatic hand gestures with mild exasperation. "you're actually trying to host an entire carnival on campus? that's insane."

"insane but fun," felix grinned, his freckles practically glowing under the cafeteria lights. "besides, it's not just me. it's a team effort."

"and somehow, you roped chan into it," changbin deadpanned.

"he was more than willing," felix laughed. "you know how chan is. if there's chaos, he wants to be in the middle of it."

"that's not true," chan said, his voice suspiciously defensive. "I just... like making things interesting."

"that's a lie, but okay," changbin snorted.

minho smirked at their bickering but he knew whatever they were talking about was not going to really happen, so he found his eyes drifting again. felix was still chattering away, but minho had already tuned him out. because jisung was standing a few feet away, talking softly to jeongin.

or, well, jeongin was talking. jisung just looked like he was trying not to pass out.

when they finally reached the front of the line, trays in hand, minho pretended not to notice the way jisung hesitated before following the group to their usual table.

but he noticed.

he noticed everything.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

jisung's stomach was a tangled mess of nerves and something that felt dangerously close to panic. he didn't know why he'd agreed to lunch with minho and his friends. well, okay, technically he hadn't agreed. felix had agreed for him.

he was going to kill felix later.

it was bad enough minho had looked at him - like really looked at him - back there. his gaze had felt heavy, sharp, like something that could cut straight through him.

and when their eyes met, it was like the world had narrowed to just them. and jisung hated it. hated how it made his chest twist and his pulse race.

because it made absolutely no sense.

felix and chan were still talking about the carnival thing, which honestly sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. but jisung couldn't bring himself to care about whatever insane ideas felix was throwing out. because minho was sitting right across from him.

right. across. from. him.

and he was looking. again.

jisung's tray trembled slightly as he set it down. his fingers felt clumsy, useless, like they didn't belong to him. jeongin slid into the seat beside him, apparently oblivious to jisung's very obvious crisis.

he couldn't bring himself to look at minho, even if some magnetic force kept pulling his gaze in that direction.

"are you okay?" jeongin whispered beside him, his voice low and teasing.

jisung shot him a glare that probably looked more like a desperate grimace. "no."

jeongin snickered, but at least he didn't push it. Instead, he started picking at his food, chatting with felix and chan about whatever ridiculous plan they were cooking up.

jisung tried to focus on his food, but every bite felt heavy and tasteless. how was he supposed to eat when minho was sitting across from him, all sharp eyes and casual indifference?

except it didn't feel like indifference. and that was the problem.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

minho couldn't keep his eyes off jisung.

it was annoying, how aware he was of the smaller boy's every movement. the way jisung's shoulders hunched like he was trying to make himself disappear. the way his fingers played with the edge of his hoodie sleeve, nervously twisting and tugging.

minho found himself wondering what it would be like to see jisung relaxed. to see him smile - a real smile. to hear what his laugh sounded like up close instead of the distant echoes he'd occasionally caught while passing by.

"so, are you guys joining the carnival?" felix asked suddenly, his gaze flicking between minho and changbin. "we need all the help we can get."

"depends on what you're planning," changbin grumbled. "I'm not dressing up as a clown."

"oh, come on, binnie," chan smirked. "you'd make a great clown."

"I will fight you."

jisung's lips twitched. it was a tiny movement, barely noticeable, but minho saw it. and for some reason, it made something in his chest unclench.

maybe it was his sleep-deprived brain, but minho wanted to see more of that.

"what about you, jisung?" felix asked, his tone carefully casual. "wanna help out?"

jisung's eyes snapped up, wide and alarmed. "uh... I-I guess? sure?"

he sounded so unsure, like he wasn't even sure why he was saying yes. and minho found himself smiling, just a little.

because now he had a reason to keep looking.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

jisung was going to die.

he was sure of it.

it wasn't like he was being overly dramatic or anything. no, not at all. because how else was he supposed to feel when he was sitting at the same table as lee minho?

lee minho. the guy who everyone on campus seemed to have a lowkey crush on, even if they denied it. the guy who walked around with this untouchable, effortless confidence that made him seem like he was on another level from everyone else.

the guy who had been the subject of almost all of jisung's late-night ramblings to felix and jeongin. the guy jisung had been writing notes to and slipping them into his locker like some desperate, lovesick fool.

and now he was sitting directly across from him. like, they were sharing the same table. breathing the same air. existing in the same tiny, cramped cafeteria space.

jisung couldn't decide whether he was going to melt into a puddle of anxiety or spontaneously combust from sheer embarrassment.

he kept his gaze stubbornly glued to his plate, his hands clenching his fork so tightly his knuckles ached.

it was stupid, really. stupid how much his hands were shaking. stupid how his pulse kept thrumming in his ears like a drumbeat, drowning out all rational thought.

because minho was there. sitting directly across from him, looking way too good for someone who had probably rolled out of bed with no effort at all.

his hair was slightly tousled, messy in a way that made jisung's chest tighten. like he'd just run a hand through it and called it a day. and the leather jacket he was wearing - god, jisung was sure he'd seen it a hundred times before, but it looked sinfully good on him today. the dark fabric clung to his shoulders and arms just right, highlighting every curve and line of his body.

why did minho have to be so effortlessly gorgeous? it was genuinely unfair.

"jisung."

the voice was sharp, jarring jisung from his panicked thoughts. he blinked up, his eyes catching on felix's bemused smile.

"huh?"

"you okay?" felix's voice was dripping with amusement, his freckled cheeks puffed up with a knowing smirk. "you look like you're about to pass out."

"uh... I'm fine." jisung's voice came out weird, all strained and high-pitched. he cleared his throat, forcing himself to act normal. whatever that meant. "totally fine."

"right," jeongin drawled from his left, his eyes gleaming with poorly-concealed laughter. "because you look like you're dying."

"not dying," jisung hissed, barely managing to keep his voice low. "just... maybe having a minor heart attack."

felix and jeongin exchanged glances, both of them grinning like this was the most hilarious thing in the world. traitors. they were supposed to be his friends.

"you should try eating, ji," felix said, poking at jisung's tray with his fork. "you know, before you actually die from starvation or something."

jisung made a noncommittal noise and stabbed at his food, even though he couldn't even taste what he was eating. everything felt like static - buzzing, overwhelming static.

because every now and then, he swore he could feel minho's gaze on him. like a heavy weight pressing down on his skin, making his heart race and his thoughts scramble.

he was going crazy. that had to be it. there was no way minho was actually looking at him. not with any sort of interest, at least. probably just glancing around the table or something. yeah, that had to be it.

but then why did jisung's whole body feel like it was burning every time he dared to look up? why did his skin prickle with awareness whenever minho shifted in his seat or adjusted his jacket?

he'd known minho was good-looking. anyone with eyes knew that. but this was different. this was minho up close. sitting less than five feet away. close enough that jisung could make out the faint line of a scar on his eyebrow, the sharpness of his jawline, the way his lips quirked slightly whenever changbin said something stupid.

it was distracting. infuriatingly distracting.

jisung's mind kept racing with thoughts he had no business thinking. about how minho's hands looked resting on the table, fingers long and elegant but scarred from fights. about how his eyes were this shade of dark brown that seemed almost black in the cafeteria's dim lighting. about how his voice was so smooth and rich, every word curling around jisung's nerves like a live wire.

it was insane. completely insane.

and the worst part? the absolute worst part?

he could feel minho's gaze on him again. like a subtle, burning heat that made his whole body seize up. jisung's hands trembled around his fork, his eyes darting up despite his best intentions.

and then he caught minho's eyes.

minho was looking at him. actually looking at him. their gazes locked, and for a split second, the entire cafeteria faded away. the noise, the chaos, the chatter of voices - it all melted into nothing. all that existed was minho's intense, piercing stare and the way jisung's heartbeat skyrocketed in his chest.

jisung's breath hitched. he couldn't breathe. couldn't think. couldn't do anything except stare back at minho like a total idiot.

but then minho's lips twitched - just the slightest, most infuriating hint of a smirk. and it was like a punch to the gut.

jisung's face burst into flames. panic flooded his veins like liquid fire, and he tore his gaze away so quickly he was surprised he didn't give himself whiplash.

"oh my god," he whispered, voice strangled and horrified.

jeongin snorted beside him. "you're so screwed."

felix's laughter was obnoxious, but jisung barely heard it over the roaring in his ears. because he was absolutely, completely screwed.

because minho had been looking at him. actually looking at him.

and jisung wasn't sure if he was about to pass out or throw up from sheer terror.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

lunch was... different. uncomfortably different.

minho prided himself on his ability to stay cool, collected, and most importantly, uninterested. people were easy to read, most of them trying so hard to impress or avoid him that he rarely found himself genuinely curious about anyone.

so, when chan had invited the trio of strangers to join them for lunch, minho was fully prepared to be bored out of his mind.

except he wasn't.

he couldn't stop looking at jisung. and that was a problem. a really fucking annoying problem.

maybe it was the way jisung seemed to avoid his gaze like it would physically hurt him if their eyes met for too long. maybe it was the way jisung's cheeks kept turning the most ridiculous shade of pink every time their gazes happened to collide.

or maybe it was the fact that jisung looked so small, so vulnerable, hunched over his food like it was the only thing keeping him from spiraling into another universe.

it was kind of adorable. in a way that made minho's chest feel tight and his fingers itch to reach out.

god, this was stupid. he shouldn't even be paying attention to some random guy who looked like he was about to pass out just from sitting across from him.

and yet, minho's gaze kept wandering back to him. kept tracking every little movement. every time jisung's fingers twitched around his fork, every time his gaze darted up and then down again with such frantic urgency it was like minho's face was made of poison.

it was hilarious. and weirdly fascinating.

minho shifted in his seat, pretending to be more interested in his food than the guy sitting directly across from him.

except his attention kept drifting. his eyes kept catching on jisung's hands - small, delicate fingers clutching his fork with a grip that seemed far too tight. on the way his shoulders were hunched up to his ears, like he was trying to fold in on himself and disappear.

why the fuck was he so tense?

the conversation at the table was buzzing, chan and changbin laughing about something felix said, jeongin throwing in the occasional sarcastic remark. and all the while, minho couldn't stop glancing at jisung.

maybe he just wanted to see how long it would take for jisung to completely freak out. yeah, that was it. just curiosity. nothing more.

he allowed himself to look. really look. and the longer he stared, the more things he noticed. like the way jisung's lips pressed together whenever someone spoke to him, like he was trying not to say something stupid. the way his eyes flickered over minho's face when he thought minho wasn't paying attention, only to snap away like he'd been caught doing something illegal.

and when jisung finally looked up - probably by accident - and their gazes met, something shifted.

jisung's eyes went wide, his lips parting as if the air had been sucked from his lungs. and for a moment, minho forgot how to breathe, too. because jisung looked so... raw. so exposed. like minho had just caught him doing something forbidden.

but then, just as quickly, jisung's gaze dropped, his face practically glowing red as he stared back down at his tray like it held the secrets to the universe. minho couldn't help the slight smirk that tugged at his lips.

cute.

what the hell was wrong with him?

"minho." chan's voice snapped him back to the present, and minho's head whipped around, his expression immediately shifting to something far more guarded.

"what?"

chan's smirk was infuriatingly smug. "you're awfully quiet."

"maybe because you idiots are doing all the talking." minho shot back, shoving another bite of food into his mouth to avoid saying anything else.

"sure, sure. that's why you keep staring at jisung like you're trying to set him on fire with your mind," changbin added with a snicker.

"excuse me?" minho glared at him, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble.

but chan and changbin weren't fazed. they'd been around him long enough to know when he was bluffing. and unfortunately, this was one of those times.

changbin shrugged, flashing a mischievous grin. "just calling it like I see it."

"maybe you should try talking to him instead of just... glaring at him." chan added, his tone annoyingly reasonable.

minho didn't bother responding. Instead, he rolled his eyes and looked away, ignoring the way chan's words dug into his brain and took root. talking to jisung was a terrible idea. because what would he even say?

hey, I can't stop staring at you because you look like you're one second away from dying of embarrassment, and for some reason, I find that completely adorable.

yeah, that would go over well.

but the thing was, minho didn't just want to look anymore. he wanted to see jisung's reaction when he actually spoke to him. wanted to see if his voice would make jisung's cheeks flush even darker, or if his words would make those wide, panicked eyes widen even more.

the thought alone made his fingers itch, his curiosity flaring up like wildfire.

before he could overthink it, he cleared his throat and leaned forward, eyes fixed on jisung's profile.

"so," minho said, his voice low and smooth. "you always eat this quietly, or am I just that intimidating?"

jisung's head snapped up so fast it was a miracle his neck didn't break. his eyes were impossibly wide, his lips parting like he'd forgotten how to form words.

and minho couldn't help it. he smiled. a real, genuine smile that felt a little too foreign on his face.

because jisung's reaction was perfect.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

he was going to die.

no, really - this was it. this was how it ended.

one minute he was silently begging the universe not to let lee minho look at him again, and the next, the universe laughed in his face. because minho didn't just look at him. he spoke to him. directly.

and not in passing. not in one of those casual, dismissive "hey" kind of ways.
no. minho leaned forward, locked eyes with him, and said, "you always eat this quietly, or am I just that intimidating?"

jisung stared at him.

actually, gawked was probably the better word. like some kind of horror-struck pigeon caught in the headlights of a very handsome motorcycle.

he could feel his soul leaving his body.
his heart had stopped beating.
his brain? gone. smooth as a plate.

he blinked. once. twice. three times. but minho was still there, still smirking at him like he wasn't the hottest person jisung had ever seen in his life. his hair was messy in that "I didn't try, but I still look flawless" way, and the light hit his cheekbones so perfectly it made jisung's stomach flip. his rings glinted when he moved, and the way his leather jacket hugged his shoulders should have been illegal.

and that voice. that low, slightly amused tone that slid down jisung's spine like warm honey and static electricity.
jisung was, quite literally, malfunctioning.

"I-uh-what?"

god. his voice cracked. he actually squeaked.

minho raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching like he was enjoying every second of jisung's emotional breakdown.
"I said," he repeated slowly, tilting his head, "am I that scary, or are you just this quiet all the time?"

jisung wanted to disappear. melt into the cafeteria floor. fake a medical emergency. something, anything to stop this moment from continuing.

because everyone was looking now.
felix was biting his lip to keep from laughing, jeongin was whispering something behind his hand, and changbin looked like he was watching his favorite drama unfold live. even chan was hiding a grin behind his soda can.

this was it. this was hell.

"I'm not quiet," jisung muttered, eyes locked firmly on his tray. "I just don't have anything to say."

wow. okay. that sounded cool. real smooth.

not.

there was a pause, and jisung could feel minho still watching him. he didn't dare look up again. not when his ears were burning and his throat felt too tight to breathe.

but then minho chuckled. a soft, low sound.
and jisung's brain short-circuited.

"I doubt that," minho said. "you look like someone who overthinks everything and still ends up blurting out the first thing that comes to mind."

jisung's head jerked up at that, his eyes wide. "wh- how do you know that?"

minho just shrugged, that same smug smirk still on his lips. "lucky guess."

jisung stared at him, completely disarmed. Because he wasn't wrong. that was exactly what jisung did. how the hell did minho see that?

"don't worry," minho added, reaching for his drink without breaking eye contact, "it's kinda cute."

cute.

did minho just call him cute?
did lee minho - leather jacket, bruised knuckles, smirk-that-could-kill minho - call him cute?!

jisung blinked once.
then twice.
then shoved a spoonful of food into his mouth just to avoid responding.
he missed. the spoon hit the corner of his lip.

the universe should've smited him on the spot.

felix was choking on laughter next to him, and jeongin had turned fully away, shoulders shaking.

jisung swallowed hard - both the food and his pride - and finally dared to glance at minho again.

to his horror, minho looked even more amused than before. his eyes were bright now, playful in a way that made jisung's pulse jump.

this wasn't fair.
jisung had spent months admiring minho from a distance - writing notes he'd never read, watching from across the quad like some kind of lovesick ghost - and now here he was, sitting three feet away, talking to him. laughing at him. teasing him.

and jisung was losing his goddamn mind.

the rest of lunch passed in a blur of awkward chewing and chaotic conversations jisung could barely focus on. every time minho spoke, his voice carved its way into jisung's skin like an echo. every time their eyes met, jisung's brain shorted out.

minho didn't say anything else directly to him, but he didn't stop looking either.
and every time jisung caught him - even for a second - that fluttery, unbearable heat would rise in his chest like wildfire.

he couldn't think. he couldn't breathe.
he couldn't believe this was actually happening.

when lunch finally ended and everyone stood to leave, jisung all but fled the cafeteria, barely mumbling a goodbye before speed-walking toward the hallway.

he needed air. he needed water.
he needed to scream.

because minho had looked at him.
minho had talked to him. had called him cute.

and jisung didn't know how much longer he could keep his crush a secret if this kept happening.

because next time minho smiled at him like that again, he might actually pass out.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

he was distracted.

he hated being distracted.

it wasn't like him - his thoughts didn't usually spiral like this, not during training, not during class, not even when changbin and chan were being loud and annoying for no reason.

he was good at compartmentalizing, at keeping shit locked up in tight boxes and shoving them into the back of his head. but today? no. today, nothing was staying in the box. because all day, one person had been on his mind.

jisung.

that mess of wide eyes and stammering and twitchy fingers and flushed cheeks - it was like every time minho blinked, he could still see that look on jisung's face when he'd called him cute.

the way he'd scrambled to shovel food into his mouth to avoid responding. the way he'd nearly dropped his chopsticks. the way his ears had gone so red minho had actually had to look away for a second because it was too much.

he hadn't expected it. that response. that... reaction.

he hadn't expected jisung at all.

he hadn't realized someone so small and soft-looking could take up so much room in his head.

but now, even hours later, in the quiet of the locker hallway after practice, minho found himself leaning against the cool metal of his locker and letting out a long breath, still thinking about those damn wide eyes.

he didn't know what to do with it. with him.

and then - as if his brain wanted to torment him further - he opened his locker and saw it.

a folded note. beat, but not too neat. white paper, creased once down the middle, tucked right on top of his books like it belonged there.

minho froze.

for a second, his stomach twisted - not in anxiety, not in fear - but in recognition.

the notes.

the fucking notes.

he glanced down the hallway on instinct, but it was empty. no one lurking. no footsteps echoing. just the low hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sound of lockers clanging shut somewhere further down.

minho reached for the paper, unfolding it with slow fingers.

four words. that was all.

> you drive me insane.

his breath caught in his throat.

it wasn't a lot - the shortest note so far. no compliments. no advice. no drink or snack waiting up top today. just four simple words. but they slammed into minho's chest with more force than anything he'd read before.

he stared at it, eyes scanning the words over and over like they might change. they didn't. they stayed the same - loopy, rushed handwriting in black ink, unmistakably not his own.

he swallowed.

he didn't know what he was expecting. something playful? something sweet? something forgettable? but this...

> you drive me insane.

the simplicity of it made it feel real. it wasn't some fluffy, poetic thing. it was frustrated. Intense. blunt. like whoever had written it had tried not to but couldn't stop themselves.

and it hit him in a place he hadn't expected. somewhere beneath the usual ice.

because it wasn't just about the note. it was who was leaving them.

that was the thing driving him crazy. not knowing.

who was it?

minho leaned back against the lockers again, holding the note loosely in one hand, head tilted up as he stared at the ceiling and tried to think.

he ran through possibilities. every day for the past few weeks, someone had left him something. quietly. without ever being seen. every message was handwritten. always thoughtful. always... careful.

some were bolder than others, some were shy, but every single one had this odd tenderness in it that stuck with him. that made minho's chest ache a little when he read them.

this one felt... different.

raw.

almost angry in how honest it was. and for some reason, that honesty made minho's hands tighten slightly around the paper.

he didn't know why he felt breathless. he didn't know why this mattered so much.

but it did.

his mind kept going back to lunch - to the way jisung had acted. like sitting at the same table as minho was some kind of social crisis. like every time minho so much as looked at him, jisung looked one second away from combusting.

minho hadn't meant to tease him at first. he'd just wanted to see what kind of reaction he'd get. but the more he looked at jisung, the more he felt this stupid itch under his skin. like he was drawn to him. and jisung - god, jisung was such a mess. fidgeting, flinching, blushing, stumbling over his own words. like being near minho short-circuited him completely.

it was... kind of addictive.

and now, holding this note in his hand, minho couldn't stop himself from thinking the one thing he shouldn't be thinking.

could it be jisung?

he hadn't really considered him before. not seriously. the idea had popped up, sure - in that idle, wishful thinking way. but there was something about this note, something unhinged and vulnerable and desperate in those four words that felt... like him.

jisung did look like he was losing his mind today.

minho narrowed his eyes.

he didn't have proof. not even a hint of it. but he'd started paying attention. watching for clues. watching people. watching him.

and if it was jisung...

minho folded the note again, slipping it into the pocket of his jacket.

if it was jisung, he didn't know what he'd do.

but he wanted to find out.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

it happened in slow motion.

he turned the corner, just like any other day. the hallway was half-empty, the echo of footsteps bouncing off the walls as students packed up for the day. practice had run late - again - and his muscles were sore, his shoulders tense, and his mind was still very much not in his body.

but then he saw it.

someone. standing by his locker.

and for a second - no, less than a second - his heart stopped.

his brain didn't even process details at first. it just filled in blanks with desperation. short. brown hair. nervous energy. jisung. it had to be jisung. who else would be there? who else had been leaving him things? who else had been haunting his thoughts so relentlessly he couldn't even focus on breathing properly anymore?

minho's feet froze.

he didn't move.

he didn't breathe.

the person was tucking something into his locker and then turning to walk away, giggling softly to themselves.

and that's when his brain finally caught up to his eyes.

long dark hair.

a skirt.

a pink backpack with dangling keychains.

not jisung.

not even close.

minho closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. his hand came up, pressing against his temple as frustration bloomed in his chest.

why am I being so stupid?

he should've known. of course it wasn't jisung. why would it be jisung? he barely knew him. he couldn't even get a proper sentence out around him. this wasn't some dumb romance drama. he wasn't the main character.

but then his stomach dropped.

wait.

the girl had just left something in his locker.

minho's eyes snapped open. he caught a final glimpse of her turning the corner, still giggling to herself, completely unaware that she had just shattered a stupid, fragile illusion minho didn't even realize he'd built.

could it be her? was she leaving all these notes? he couldn't help but feel a pang of... disappointment in his chest.

he didn't wait.

he rushed to the locker, pulling it open so fast and so violently that the metal door slammed into the neighboring lockers with a loud bang. the sound echoed down the hallway, startling a few students nearby, but minho didn't care. his eyes were already scanning for what she had left.

and there it was.

another note.

he snatched it like it had personally offended him, unfolding it with trembling fingers. his eyes devoured the words in an instant:

> I really like you. can we exchange numbers? my classroom is 83 ;)

it was so neat. so tidy. not rushed. not messy. not familiar.

and minho's stomach twisted because this wasn't his note.

not the notes.

this wasn't the person who left him his favorite coffee that one morning. this wasn't the person who wrote things like "you deserve to be happy" or "you drive me insane."

this was just a girl.

a nice girl, probably. sweet. brave enough to ask him out.

but minho felt absolutely nothing.

no warmth.

no curiosity.

no flutter in his chest.

just a weird, hollow kind of disappointment.

this isn't it.

this isn't who I've been waiting for.

and god, wasn't that embarrassing?

he felt the breath leave his lungs in a slow, almost painful sigh. a part of him hated how relieved he was that this girl wasn't the one behind the notes. because it meant the mystery was still alive. it meant that - maybe, maybe - it could still be jisung.

"okay..." he whispered to no one, his voice dry and quiet. his fingers curled around the paper for another second before he scoffed under his breath and crumpled it into a tight ball.

he tossed it in the trash without a second thought.

leaning his head back, minho closed his eyes, let out a long breath, and said it.

the words spilled out before he could stop them.

"fuck... I want it to be jisung."

the hallway stayed silent.

he laughed once, under his breath, bitter and tired. "I'm such a loser," he mumbled.

because wasn't it pathetic? that the only person who'd made his heart beat weirdly was some jittery kid who couldn't even look him in the eye for more than three seconds? that he was out here hoping - wishing - that jisung was the one writing him little love letters in messy handwriting?

what was wrong with him?

minho shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking toward the exit.

the air outside was already colder, and he could see his breath in little puffs as he made his way across the parking lot. his motorcycle sat near the back, gleaming under the dull lights, helmet hooked onto the side.

he didn't put it on right away. just stood there, staring at the ground, hands buried deep in his jacket.

his fingers brushed something soft - the real note. the actual one.

> you drive me insane.

he pulled it out, stared at it again in the quiet.

this note still felt like something. it still hummed in his hands. made his heartbeat do that stupid fluttery thing. made his mind go back - always back - to jisung, biting his lip, eyes wide, voice cracking.

minho smiled faintly, a little broken and a lot tired.

"you're such a loser, lee minho," he thought bitterly. "you're really out here falling for a ghost."

still... he folded the note again. carefully. like it mattered.

and tucked it safely back into his pocket.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the campus courtyard was quieter now, painted gold and amber under the setting sun. the last stretch of late afternoon cast long shadows across the benches and walkways, warming the bricks with fading light. it should've been peaceful. calm. just another normal end to a normal day.

but minho's heart wasn't interested in calm.

he'd barely stepped out of the building when he saw him.

jisung.

he was standing near the row of benches under the trees with jeongin, their backpacks slouched at their feet, a drink half-finished on the bench beside them. they were talking- no, laughing. something jeongin said had clearly been ridiculous, and jisung had thrown his head back, a full-bodied laugh echoing from his chest like the most natural sound in the world.

and it gutted minho.

because he couldn't stop staring.

because he hadn't known he was the kind of person who noticed things like the way sunlight caught on someone's hair. or how it lit up their skin. or how a smile could look so effortless on someone else's face but feel like a gut punch to your own.

because jisung was glowing.

alive in a way minho wasn't used to seeing him - not in the cafeteria, not in the hallway, not in those rare glances that always felt like mistakes.

now, jisung looked free. like himself.

and he was beautiful.

minho's heart was doing that thing again, thudding against his ribs like it was trying to get out. like it was asking why he wasn't walking over there. why he wasn't saying anything. why he wasn't trying.

because he couldn't.

because he was lee minho, and lee minho didn't get flustered. lee minho didn't get weak-kneed over guys who could barely meet his eyes. lee minho definitely didn't fall for people after one awkward lunch and a bunch of anonymous notes.

right?

minho tore his gaze away with effort, eyes snapping back to the sidewalk like it had personally offended him. his footsteps were too loud, echoing across the courtyard as he made his way to his motorcycle parked near the side gate.

he could still hear jisung's laugh behind him.

it echoed. it stuck to his ribs.

and it hurt.

"what the fuck are you doing to me?" he muttered, breath sharp as he reached his bike.

he yanked his helmet off the seat and shoved it onto his head with more force than necessary. his hands fumbled with the chin strap, annoyed at how unsteady they felt. he couldn't even buckle his helmet right now.

this was embarrassing.

you spoke to him once.

once.

they barely exchanged words. jisung had spent most of lunch looking anywhere but at him. and still - still - minho couldn't stop thinking about him. about how red his cheeks had been. about how wide his eyes got when they locked gazes. about how he stuttered over the word "yeah" like it was made of fire.

he was spiraling.

again.

the bike rumbled under him as he turned the key in the ignition. the engine growled to life, loud and low like it could drown out everything inside him.

but it didn't.

nothing could.

because behind the roar, minho was still muttering to himself, voice swallowed by his helmet and the setting sun.

"I'm fucked."

it slipped out before he could stop it. a quiet, bitter truth. just three words. but they wrapped around his chest and squeezed, and for a second, he almost laughed.

because he was.

so hopelessly, pathetically fucked.

the notes, the handwriting, the soft little things scribbled on scraps of paper - he wanted them to be jisung's. he needed them to be jisung's. he'd never admit it out loud, not even to chan or changbin, but minho had been building a fantasy. piece by piece. word by word. smile by smile.

and now he was standing in the middle of it, head full of someone he didn't even really know.

but god, he wanted to know him.

he wanted to know why jisung flinched when he was spoken to, why he fidgeted with his sleeves, why he looked like he had a thousand things to say but never let them out. he wanted to hear that laugh again - closer this time. just for him.

minho stared ahead at the gates, blinking like the sun might blind him out of this ridiculous daydream.

"you're so dramatic," he muttered to himself.

but even that didn't sound convincing.

because he was still picturing jisung's face, tilted toward the light, cheeks round with laughter, mouth parted like he was laughing with every ounce of his soul. and minho couldn't help but whisper one last thing before he twisted the throttle and disappeared into the fading light:

"fuck, I hope it's you."

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the late afternoon sun dipped lower behind the trees, casting everything in that golden-orange glow that made the world feel softer, slower.

students were trickling out of buildings in lazy clusters, laughter fading into the breeze, the occasional bike wheeling past. somewhere behind him, a bird chirped too cheerfully for jisung's current emotional state.

he should've been listening to jeongin. they were mid-conversation- jeongin was saying something about a classmate who'd fallen asleep during their literature presentation and snored through the whole thing - but jisung's attention was already slipping. his senses buzzed faintly, in that specific way they always did when something - or someone - was near.

and then, like he was pulled by gravity, jisung turned his head.

his eyes fell straight onto minho.

minho, who was walking toward his motorcycle with those slow, deliberate steps. hands in his jacket pockets, back perfectly straight, posture like he owned the ground he walked on. there was something in the way he moved - quiet confidence, not cocky, just solid. unshakable. it made jisung's stomach twist in on itself.

time slowed.

everything else in the courtyard seemed to dissolve around him. the laughter, the warm breeze, the half-finished drink on the bench. none of it mattered. only minho mattered. it was always like that, wasn't it? every time minho was anywhere nearby, jisung's world shrank down to the size of that one boy's silhouette.

he stared, completely hypnotized, eyes tracing the curve of minho's back, the way his leather jacket hugged his frame, how the sunlight hit the top of his helmet as he slipped it on. fuck, he looked good. too good.

jisung let his brain wander, as he always did in moments like this. let himself pretend.

minho turning around and walking toward him instead of the bike. that unreadable, smoldering gaze settling right on jisung. maybe a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth - soft, just for him. maybe minho's fingers brushing his wrist, tangling with his. maybe minho reaching out to touch his cheek, or tilt his chin up, or - god, kiss him.

not on the lips, though.

no, jisung was 100% sure that if minho kissed him on the lips, he would literally pass out. collapse. done for. he'd never recover.

but his forehead? or his cheek? or the top of his head? yeah. that was still deadly, but he could survive it. maybe.

just the thought of minho leaning close, whispering something low, warm breath brushing his skin - jisung was seconds away from short-circuiting in public.

his breath caught. his fingers curled into the sleeves of his hoodie. and he stared.

"jisung, you look so stupid."

jeongin's voice cut through his daydream like a slap.

jisung blinked, the fantasy shattering around him. his gaze snapped to jeongin's unimpressed expression, then back toward where minho had been.

only to find... nothing.

minho was gone.

the motorcycle was gone.

gone.

fuck.

jisung groaned so loudly the students at the other bench turned. he dragged his hands over his face, fingers tugging at his cheeks as he buried himself in embarrassment.

"I missed him," he whined, his voice muffled by his palms. "I missed my chance to look pathetic from slightly closer."

"you are pathetic," jeongin said helpfully, patting his shoulder like it was some kind of condolence. "so, so pathetic, hyung."

jisung let out a low, pitiful noise that could only be described as a whimper.

"how do people like people and function like normal human beings?" he groaned, peeling his hands away just enough to look up at the sky. "it's not fair. I see him and I forget how to breathe."

jeongin hummed, checking his phone. "you've been crushing on him for months. at this point, your brain is probably just permanently rewired."

"I talked to him once," jisung said, eyes wide in disbelief, "and I've had exactly seven intrusive thoughts about his hands since this morning. I'm insane."

jeongin didn't even blink. "only seven?"

jisung groaned again and dropped his head onto jeongin's shoulder, flopping dramatically like a dying fish.

"I'm writing another note," he mumbled.

jeongin snorted. "of course you are. that'll fix everything."

"I need to let it out or I'll implode," jisung said, half into jeongin's jacket. "I'm going insane, jeongin. insane. I have to say something. or write something. or scream."

jeongin patted his head. "maybe don't scream."

there was a long pause before jisung whispered, barely audible:

"I want him to kiss me so bad it's ruining my life."

jeongin, bless him, didn't even laugh. he just nodded solemnly. "I know."

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

jisung sat cross-legged on his bed, a crumpled hoodie hanging off one shoulder, hair messy from how many times he'd run his hands through it in the past hour.

his room was dim except for the soft glow of his desk lamp, which cast long shadows across the walls and bathed his desk in warm light. his laptop was open, some playlist quietly playing in the background - soft vocals, lo-fi beats, nothing distracting.

he was staring down at a blank sheet of paper.

it was a little worn at the edges from how many times he'd hesitated to start. there were already three other torn notes in the trash can next to his desk - failed drafts. too dramatic. too vague. too obvious.

he'd written "you make my heart stupid" in one. that one hadn't even made it past five seconds before he cringed and ripped it up.

this one had to be different.

today had rattled something in him.

seeing minho in the cafeteria had nearly killed him. he'd barely eaten, and when minho had smiled, it had taken every ounce of strength in his entire body not to sink into the floor and die happily on the spot.

and then outside - the way minho had walked, the way he looked in that jacket, the way jisung's brain short-circuited over just the thought of minho kissing him...

he had to get it out. all of it. before it ate him alive.

he exhaled, hard. rolled his shoulders. picked up the pen again.

and this time, he wrote without stopping.

his handwriting was a little messy, like always - slanted, a bit chaotic, but his. it made it feel more real.

> do you ever feel like someone's living rent-free in your head? because that's you. you've been there for a while. and you're not just sitting quietly either - you're rearranging the furniture.

> I don't know what you did to me, but every time I see you, I forget how to be normal. which sucks, by the way. because I used to be so good at acting chill.

> you make me want to write songs and punch walls and cry and laugh all at the same time. you drive me insane.

> so thanks for that.

- h.

jisung stared at the note after he finished, the pen still pressed lightly against the paper.

his heart was beating way too fast.

it was bolder. riskier. he left a clue. not a name, not really - but a door, just barely cracked open. the thought of minho seeing this one made his stomach twist in knots, but he didn't tear it up. not this time.

he folded it neatly. tucked it into his notebook. and sat back on his bed, hugging a pillow to his chest.

he was terrified.

but also... kind of excited?

minho had been looking for the notes. jisung knew it. he'd seen the way minho's eyes scanned the hall, the way his jaw tensed when someone approached his locker. and the fact that minho had actually kept them - god, kept them - meant something, didn't it?

it had to mean something.

tomorrow. tomorrow he'd sneak it into minho's locker. he just had to avoid having a mental breakdown in the hallway while doing it.

small goals.

he buried his face in the pillow and screamed softly into it.

this was going to either destroy him or change everything.

maybe both.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the next morning, everything felt louder.

jisung had woken up with a knot in his stomach that refused to go away, even after a hot shower and two bites of toast.

he kept pacing back and forth in his room, the note burning a hole in the pocket of his hoodie. every time he reached for it - to maybe just reread it one more time - he'd freeze halfway and clench his fists instead.

this was it. no turning back now.

on the bus, he barely registered the movement of the world outside. his music played in his ears, but he wasn't listening. his knee bounced. he chewed on the string of his hoodie. his fingers drummed restlessly on his thigh. every single part of him was vibrating with anxiety. or anticipation. maybe both.

he repeated the plan in his head like it was a mantra.

wait until first period is starting.
hallways will be less crowded.
slide the note into the locker.
don't get caught.
absolutely do not make eye contact with minho.
especially if he looks hot. which he will. because he always does. fuck.

by the time he walked through the campus gates, jisung was already sweating.

he didn't even notice jeongin at first, trailing behind him with two drinks in hand. "you look like you're about to commit arson," jeongin said casually, offering him a drink.

jisung jumped. "jesus! don't sneak up on me when I'm planning emotional terrorism!"

jeongin blinked. "it's 8 a.m."

"exactly," jisung said. "peak time for mental instability."

jeongin just sipped his drink and followed along like this was a normal tuesday.

jisung didn't go to his own locker first. he circled around the long way, keeping his head down, eyes flicking toward that row of lockers every few seconds. when the first period bell rang and students started shuffling into their classrooms, jisung turned to jeongin.

"cover me."

"you're not being hunted," jeongin replied, but stepped in front of a vending machine anyway, effectively blocking most of the hallway with his obnoxiously tall frame.

jisung took a breath.

then another.

then moved.

his feet carried him faster than his brain could keep up with. before he could second-guess it, he was in front of minho's locker. his hands moved on autopilot - note out, locker slightly ajar, paper slipped through the gap and gently dropped inside. not a sound.

one second. two.

done.

he stepped back like the note had burned him.

then turned and walked away, fast. too fast. he tried to play it cool, but the second he turned the corner out of sight, he grabbed jeongin's sleeve and practically collapsed against the wall.

"I did it," he whispered, wide-eyed, heart pounding in his ears. "I actually fucking did it."

"you want a sticker or something?" jeongin asked.

jisung didn't even care. he laughed - slightly hysterical - and let the adrenaline buzz through him.

but that buzz didn't last long.

because the rest of the day? pure torture.

every class felt ten years long. every glance toward the hallway felt suspicious. every time someone breathed too loudly in minho's general direction, jisung was craning his neck, searching.

he didn't see minho during morning break. didn't see him at lunch either. not once.

the anticipation was eating him alive.

had he seen it?
had he read it?
had he thrown it away?
what if he knew it was him? what if he hated it? what if-

by the time his last class ended, jisung was seconds away from losing all rational thought. he walked down the hall slower than usual, shoulders hunched, hoodie pulled up over his head like it could hide his anxiety.

and then he saw him.

minho.

standing near his locker.

jisung stopped dead.

he couldn't breathe.

minho had the note in his hand.

he was staring at it - really staring at it, his brows furrowed, mouth slightly parted like he was reading it for the tenth time. his other hand was in his jacket pocket. he wasn't leaning on anything, wasn't scrolling through his phone, wasn't talking to anyone.

just holding the note.

the exact note jisung had written the night before. his handwriting. his words.

minho's eyes scanned the paper one last time, slow, thoughtful. then he smiled.

barely.

it was small. barely there. just a twitch of the lips. but it was real. genuine.

and jisung nearly passed out on the spot.

he stumbled back behind a pillar, clutching his chest like he'd been physically struck. his brain was going into overdrive. he could still see minho in the corner of his eye, tucking the note gently - gently - into his backpack, almost like it was something important. something he wanted to keep.

jisung's knees were weak. his soul was leaving his body.

jeongin joined him moments later and glanced around the pillar. "well? did he read it?"

jisung looked at him with wide, stunned eyes. "he smiled."

"oh." jeongin blinked. "shit."

"yeah."

"you might actually have a chance."

jisung shook his head slowly, like he couldn't even comprehend the words. "I think I'm going to die."

"not until we get home," jeongin said, patting his back. "let's go before you pass out in public."

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

minho's morning started like most of his mornings lately - restless and annoyingly distracted.

his alarm went off at 7:00 sharp, like always. but unlike always, minho didn't get up immediately. he just stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, arm flung over his eyes, heart already heavy with something he didn't know how to name.

he'd had weird dreams again. not exactly bad, but... intense. someone's voice - familiar but echoing - laughing softly. a hand brushing his. brown eyes looking at him like he was the whole sky.

when he rolled over to finally drag himself out of bed, the first thought that drifted into his head was: I wonder if there'll be a note today.

he didn't even fight it.

the notes had become a part of his daily life now - his favourite part, if he was being honest. which was ridiculous. because he didn't even know who was leaving them. just paper and ink. but something about them... mattered. they felt like secrets just for him. a private thread tying him to someone else in the chaos of the school halls.

and after yesterday - after that mess of adrenaline in the cafeteria, after seeing jisung looking at him like that, after thinking the mystery note-writer had been some random girl only to feel like an idiot about it - minho's brain hadn't stopped spinning.

so yes. he hoped there would be a note today.

he showed up a little earlier than usual, not that he'd ever admit it. claimed he had to talk to a teacher. told his friends he had errands. but really, he just wanted to check his locker before too many eyes were on him.

the hallway was mostly empty. a couple of stragglers. nothing unusual. his boots echoed on the polished tile as he reached his locker, opened it smoothly, and-

there it was.

folded. simple. like always.

his stomach tightened as his fingers hovered over it, like he was afraid touching it too fast might scare it away. then he grabbed it. slid it open with more care than he ever used for anything else in his life.

the moment his eyes hit the first line, he knew.

> do you ever feel like someone's living rent-free in your head?

he exhaled sharply through his nose. It already had him. every line after that made his chest feel tighter.

> because that's you. you've been there for a while. and you're not just sitting quietly either - you're rearranging the furniture.

a real, startled laugh escaped him before he could stop it. he bit down on his bottom lip to contain it, but it was too late - his cheeks were already warming.

he leaned against the lockers and kept reading.

> I don't know what you did to me, but every time I see you, I forget how to be normal. which sucks, by the way. because I used to be so good at acting chill.

he whispered under his breath, "same."

he was grinning now, full-on, and it was embarrassing how easily these notes got under his skin. he didn't even know who was behind them. but this voice - the way they wrote, the way they saw him - he was drawn to it.

he didn't know how else to describe it, except... it felt like home.

and then the signature at the end:

- h.

minho froze.

he read the letter again. then again. h.

his mind ran through every single person he knew at school whose name started with h. but one name jumped out before the others. not because of the initial, but because he wanted it to be that name.

han jisung.

minho rubbed his thumb along the edge of the paper, head tilting slightly in thought. could it be him? was it too much to hope?

but something about the writing - messy, a little chaotic, heartfelt - felt like jisung. like the way jisung fidgeted when he talked. like the way his laugh came out in bursts, unfiltered. like the way his eyes lingered too long sometimes, just like minho's did.

"fuck," minho muttered, pushing a hand through his hair.

he looked around. no one was watching. the hallway was quiet again. the bell had already rung.

he read the note again. he couldn't help himself. and he found himself smiling at the end again.

he folded the note carefully - painstakingly - and slid it into the front pocket of his backpack, right next to the others.

minho didn't throw any of them away.

then he stood there, hand still on the locker, heart beating too fast.

something was happening. he could feel it. like standing at the edge of something big.

he didn't know what he was going to do next, but he knew one thing for sure:

he couldn't stop thinking about han jisung.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

minho had a plan.

it wasn't exactly the kind of plan you'd write out step by step or share with a friend. no, it was the kind of plan that formed late at night while staring at your ceiling, heart pounding, stomach flipping, your brain refusing to shut up about someone. about him.

he had asked seungmin casually - so casually - if he and hyunjin were getting lunch together today. seungmin had looked up from his phone with a bored expression and said, "yeah, probably."

minho tilted his head and made it sound like he wasn't really interested. "are hyunjin's other friends coming too?"

"yeah, probably." again, seungmin didn't even flinch.

perfect.

minho barely contained the smile that threatened to bloom across his face. instead, he just hummed and walked off, pretending like it didn't matter. but the second he turned the corner, his pace quickened, almost to a jog. he wasn't going to risk getting to the cafeteria late. not today.

when he walked in, seungmin, hyunjin, and felix were already there, seated at one of the long tables near the windows. minho made his way to them with a practiced calmness in his steps, his expression unreadable. he gave them a nod of greeting, slid into the seat next to hyunjin, and leaned back in his chair with the perfect amount of nonchalance. arms folded, legs stretched out under the table.

now, all he had to do was wait.

it didn't take long.

chan arrived first, nodding and bumping fists with felix as he sat down. then came changbin and jeongin, talking about something that involved dramatic hand gestures and half-suppressed laughter. and finally - finally - jisung.

minho didn't mean to stare. really. but the second jisung walked into the cafeteria, something in minho's chest shifted. like his ribs expanded without permission, like his lungs forgot how to hold air.

jisung's hair was a little messy, soft and fluffy, and he wore that hoodie - the gray one minho had once seen him tug at nervously during a class presentation. he looked warm, bright. he looked like a crush.

jisung took a seat across the table and directly diagonal from minho, beside jeongin. his smile was shy but genuine as he greeted the others, and when his eyes finally, inevitably, landed on minho - just for a second - his cheeks flushed pink.

minho felt that tiny reaction in his bones. he bit the inside of his cheek to keep the grin off his face. Instead, he ducked his head slightly and pulled out his phone, the device lighting up in his hand.

that was the plan.

ignore him.

not in a mean way. no - this was strategy. because minho knew, knew, that if he didn't look at jisung... jisung would look at him. it was simple, really. basic psychology. people are curious. people want what they can't have - or what they think they can't have. if minho didn't give him attention, if he made himself just a little unavailable, jisung wouldn't be able to help it.

minho scrolled through his feed aimlessly. he wasn't seeing anything. his mind was far too focused on the boy across from him.

he could feel jisung there, like gravity. like a low pull at the center of his chest. he was pretending to be disinterested, but internally, he was waiting for that familiar warmth to fall onto him - the weight of someone's gaze.

specifically, his gaze.

minho didn't know how much time passed - maybe a minute, maybe five - but eventually, the sensation became undeniable. the air changed. charged. his skin prickled with it.

he was being watched.

and he knew who it was.

he waited a second longer, for good measure. let jisung look. let him soak it in.

then, he lifted his head.

and there it was.

jisung. eyes locked on him. caught in the act.

minho expected him to blush harder and look away quickly like he usually did.

but that didn't happen.

jisung didn't flinch. didn't glance away. he held minho's gaze, steady and quiet, like he meant to be seen. his face was soft, open, but there was a tremble in his expression, like he was standing on the edge of something and choosing - choosing - to stay there. for him.

minho froze.

all of his plans - teasing, smirking, saying something clever or smug - all of it died in his throat. his mind went completely blank, his lips parting slightly without sound. because this look, this gaze from jisung... it wasn't playful. it wasn't shy.

it was honest.

jisung was looking at minho like he mattered. like he was wanted. not in the way people wanted him to be cool or aloof or sharp - but in a way that made his throat feel tight and his hands want to reach out.

it hit minho all at once - like a train, like a storm, like a song with no warning.

fuck.

he wasn't just falling.

he was gone.

jisung's eyes, dark and bright at the same time, sparkled in the cafeteria lights. there was something soft in them - affection, maybe. curiosity. longing. minho didn't know, couldn't name it, but it pulled at something deep inside him. it made his heart ache in the most stupid, beautiful way.

minho never thought that eyes could be this beautiful. he always thought that this "they lost themselves in his eyes" was something stupid. because how could you get lost in someone's eyes? like this. minho had lost himself in jisung's eyes and he... he wanted to stay lost.

he wanted to keep looking forever. wanted to get up from this table and pull jisung aside and ask, is it you? are you the one who's been writing to me? because I think I've been writing back every time I look at you and don't say a thing.

the voices of their friends were just background noise now - laughing, arguing, gossiping about classes. minho didn't hear a single word.

he only saw jisung.

and jisung was only looking at him.

that moment, suspended and unspoken, was more intimate than anything minho had ever known.

he didn't know what would happen next.

but he knew this - whatever it was between them - it was real.

and it had already started.

minho didn't even realize he was holding his breath until jisung blinked.

that tiny motion - barely there - was all it took to shatter the spell. the noise of the cafeteria came rushing back in, the clatter of trays, the hum of conversation, seungmin's laugh from across the table, someone's chair scraping loudly against the floor.

but minho was still stuck - still drowning - in the way jisung had looked at him. like minho was something beautiful. like he mattered. like he meant something.

and it hit him harder than he was ready for.

because that wasn't just infatuation in jisung's eyes. that wasn't just a crush. that was something deeper, something aching and soft and open in a way minho wasn't used to. it scared him a little, how much he liked it. how much he wanted to dive headfirst into it.

jisung looked away first - but not like he was embarrassed. it was more like... he couldn't take it anymore. his cheeks were flushed, sure, but his lips were parted like he'd just been holding back something - a breath, a thought, a confession maybe.

minho's heart thudded in his chest, too loud.

he glanced down at his phone again, but the screen was blurry now. his eyes weren't focused. his brain was a thousand miles away from whatever app he had open. the only thing he could focus on was the way jisung had looked at him.

fuck, he was so far gone.

across from him, jisung was trying very hard to look normal. laughing at something jeongin said, pushing his food around with his fork, eyes never once flicking back to minho. but it was forced. minho could see it. could feel the tension in the air like a live wire strung tight between them.

it was electric.

he wanted to do something - say something. something small, but meaningful. he wanted to lean across the table and whisper something stupid just to see jisung smile at him again. or maybe slide his foot forward under the table until their shoes touched, until jisung looked at him again with those eyes like galaxies, like he was his and minho just hadn't claimed him yet.

instead, minho leaned back in his chair again, trying to look casual, but every nerve in his body was on fire. he picked up his drink. took a sip he didn't need. said something dry to seungmin just to say something, but his eyes - his traitorous, hopeless eyes - kept flicking back to jisung like they had a mind of their own.

and then, just for a split second, jisung looked at him again.

this time, it was brief. barely a flicker. but it was there. a flash of something behind the lashes, something trembling and hopeful.

minho smiled. he didn't even mean to. It just happened.

jisung blinked like he'd been hit, and then immediately looked away again, biting back the beginnings of a smile, the kind that tugged at one side of his mouth first. minho nearly lost it right there.

god, this boy was going to ruin him.

and the worst part?

minho wanted him to.

he sat there, letting the warmth of that tiny moment bloom in his chest, spreading like sunlight through every corner of him. whatever this was - whatever was growing between them - it wasn't one-sided. he was sure of it now.

jisung felt it too.

and if minho had anything to say about it, this story wasn't going to stop with stolen glances and secret notes.

no.

this was only the beginning.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the hallway was quiet now, emptied of the chaos that usually filled it during passing period. the distant murmur of lectures echoed faintly behind closed classroom doors, and the occasional footsteps of a late student or a wandering teacher passed without pause.

but in one tucked-away corner, near the end of the science wing where no one really came unless they had a reason to, han jisung was falling apart.

his back was pressed to the cold wall, legs drawn up, arms wrapped tight around his knees like he could hold himself together with sheer force. but it wasn't working. his breath hitched again, another sob climbing up his throat before he could stop it.

"felix, I can't-" he choked, voice cracking like glass under pressure. "I can't do this."

felix was crouched next to him, hands already reaching, already pulling him into a hug before the tears had fully begun. he didn't speak at first. he just held jisung close, grounding him with the warmth of his arms, the solid press of his presence. jisung clung back like a lifeline, burying his face into felix's shoulder as his chest shook with the force of his sobs.

"I tried to act normal," he whispered through the tears. "I really did. but I saw him looking at me-felix, he looked at me. like- like he really saw me. like he-" his voice broke again, collapsing under the weight of what he was feeling. "like he wanted me."

felix's heart cracked in his chest. he tightened his grip, resting his chin on top of jisung's head. "I know," he murmured gently. "I saw it too."

"I like him so much it hurts," jisung admitted, his voice raw and shaking. "it's not just a crush anymore, lix. I think I'm in love with him. and it's so stupid because I don't even know if he really feels the same or if I'm just imagining everything and - god - what if I'm just some pathetic loser with a dumb little fantasy and he's just being nice and-"

"hey, hey, stop," felix cut in gently, pulling back just enough to cup jisung's face in his hands. his thumbs wiped at the tracks of tears under his eyes, and his gaze was so soft it nearly undid jisung all over again. "you're not pathetic, okay? you're not. you're the bravest person I know. you've been putting your whole heart out there, piece by piece, and you haven't stopped even when it scared you. that's not pathetic, that's... that's kind of incredible."

jisung sniffled, eyes red and glassy, lips trembling.

felix smiled sadly and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. "and I don't think you're imagining it, sungie. I saw the way minho looked at you today. that wasn't just a look. that was someone falling."

jisung's breath caught, a fragile hope fluttering in his chest like wings too scared to spread.

"you think so?" he whispered.

"I know so," felix said. "and I think he's just as scared as you are."

they sat like that for a while longer - quiet, holding on, letting jisung's breathing even out again. letting the heartbreak turn into something less sharp. jisung leaned fully into felix's side, drained but calmer, still hurting, but at least not alone.

"I left him a note," jisung said finally, voice hoarse. "a new one. this morning."

felix smiled softly. "then I guess it's his turn to fall apart."

that made jisung laugh, just a little, through the leftover tears. "god, I hope so."

"you've already done the hard part," felix said, brushing his fingers comfortingly against jisung's sleeve. "now you just have to wait."

jisung nodded, resting his head on felix's shoulder again, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

"waiting sucks," he mumbled.

"yeah," felix agreed. "but sometimes... it's worth it."

and somewhere, not too far from them, minho was opening his locker.

and everything was about to change.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

minho wasn't thinking about the note when he got to his locker.

well, okay. that was a lie. he hadn't been thinking about it. not until the moment his fingers wrapped around the cool metal of the locker handle and his breath caught in his throat like it always did - right before he opened it.

it had started to become a ritual. the cautious inhale, the split-second flicker of anticipation. because he never knew when another one would appear.

it had been three days since the last one and minho had read that one so many times the words were practically engraved behind his eyelids. and then today... today had been a lot.

jisung.

lunch.

that look.

minho hadn't even been able to keep up with his own thoughts after that moment. all day, he'd been drifting - staring too long at doorways, forgetting half of what his teachers said, tapping his pen against his desk like it could beat the confusion out of him.

and jisung? jisung had looked at him like he meant something. like he saw something inside minho worth holding onto. worth loving.

it terrified him.

it thrilled him.

it made him feel like gravity was something he could fight.

so when he pulled open his locker and saw the note, folded neatly and resting against his textbook, he froze. his heart leapt. he hadn't even touched it yet, but his fingers were already tingling, his skin buzzing like his body recognized something sacred before his mind had a chance to catch up.

this one was on pale yellow paper. a little creased in the corners. folded the same way the others were.

minho scanned the hallway.

no one.

no one watching him. no one suspicious.

he took the note.

he unfolded it with care, like something fragile - like a secret meant just for him.

the handwriting was the same. that same messy slant, the letters running into each other like they were in a hurry to get the feelings out. his eyes fell to the first line.

> I don't know how to stop.

minho blinked.

his heart kicked in his chest.

he kept reading.

> every time I tell myself it's too much, that I should stop, that maybe you don't even notice me - something happens. you walk past and my brain just... blanks. you smile and my heart forgets how to beat normally.

> you make everything worse and better at the same time.

> I like you so much, I'm scared to breathe around you. which sounds dramatic, I know. but it's true. you turn my whole world sideways. and I keep wondering - what if I told you? what if I said it out loud, just once? would you even look at me the same again?

> so here I am. saying it the only way I know how. with paper and ink and too many feelings.

> I like you. I like you. I like you.

> it's stupid and terrifying, but it's yours. all of it.

- h.

minho stared at the paper.

not blinking. not breathing. just... there.

everything around him fell away, the noise of the school, the faint scuffling of feet, the voice of a teacher echoing from an open door. none of it registered.

all he could hear was the pounding of his own heart.

this was different.

this was more.

more raw. more vulnerable. this wasn't just a playful note. this was someone pouring themselves out in jagged lines and trembling words. this wasn't just flirting.

this was a confession.

and he knew.

he knew it now, without a shred of doubt, without a single hesitation.

it was jisung.

it had always been jisung.

and minho felt like he'd just been struck by lightning and kissed by sunlight all at once.

his legs felt unsteady. he pressed the note flat against the inside of his locker door like he needed to hold it steady to keep from shaking. his eyes scanned over the words again, every I like you echoing in his bones like a song he couldn't stop humming.

a breath caught in his throat.

he wanted to see jisung. right now. he wanted to run.

he wanted to find him, grab him by the hand, and say something - anything - that could even begin to match the weight of what he'd just read.

but he didn't move yet.

he stared at the paper, letting the feelings wash over him in waves.

because someone had just given him their heart.

and it was the only heart minho had ever wanted.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

minho had been riding for over an hour.

the city was a blur around him - streetlights bleeding gold across slick pavement, the hum of traffic like a low chorus in the distance. the night air was sharp, cutting against his cheeks, but the burn in his chest was hotter.

he hadn't really planned on riding this long. he hadn't really planned on anything. he just needed to get out. needed to breathe. needed space.

only the thing he was trying to escape - his own head - was sitting behind his eyes, arms crossed, tapping its foot with every turn of the tires.

jisung.

minho's fingers tightened around the handlebars.

every road he turned down, every light he passed, jisung was there. in flashes. in thoughts he couldn't shake.

he could see it so clearly it hurt - jisung seated behind him on the bike, arms snug around minho's waist, head pressed lightly between his shoulder blades. he could feel it - jisung's body leaning into him as they took a corner, breath ghosting warm through the fabric of minho's jacket.

he imagined glancing in the side mirror and catching just the corner of jisung's grin, wind in his hair, laughing at something minho had shouted over the engine.

minho let out a breath, shaky and quiet.

he turned a corner a little too sharply. not dangerous - he was always in control on the bike - but enough to feel it. the adrenaline. the ache.

he didn't know what was worse: the fact that he wanted jisung so bad it felt like gravity itself had shifted around him - or the fact that, for the first time in his life, it didn't scare him.

he wanted jisung in his jacket. that one. the black leather one with the silver zippers and worn shoulders. it was too big for jisung, minho knew it would be. that was the point. he wanted to see the sleeves hang over jisung's hands, the collar swallowing his neck, the way it would smell like him by the time he gave it back - if he ever gave it back.

he wanted to kiss him.

god, he wanted to kiss him.

minho had never really been the kind of guy to fantasize about kissing before. not like this. not in the soft, dreamy way people talked about in books or whispered about in dorm rooms. but now?

now he couldn't stop thinking about how jisung would look with his lips swollen and pink from being kissed. how his eyes would flutter shut, lashes brushing his cheeks. how his hands might tremble a little, not out of fear, but because he felt it too.

minho wanted to be close enough to feel jisung's heartbeat under his fingers. wanted to pull back from that first kiss and watch the blush rise on jisung's face in real time.

he wanted to ruin him and cherish him in the same breath.

and it wasn't just about want anymore.

it was more.

it was the way his stomach twisted every time jisung laughed. the way he found himself leaning closer without meaning to. the way jisung's name filled the quiet spaces in his mind like it belonged there.

it was the way that note had felt in his hand. like something sacred. like a promise.

minho pulled into a quiet overlook, the city stretched out below like a painting come to life. he parked the bike, engine cutting off with a low hum, and just sat there for a moment. helmet still on, the echo of the road still pulsing in his ears.

he closed his eyes.

and there he was again.

jisung.

jisung with that crooked smile and nervous laugh.

jisung with ink-stained fingers and trembling words on paper.

jisung who looked at minho like he'd hung the fucking stars.

and maybe - maybe - minho was in love.

it was wild. unfair. terrifying.

but it didn't feel wrong.

in fact, it was the most right anything had ever felt.

he let out a quiet, breathless laugh and leaned forward against the handlebars, resting his head on his arms. the leather of his gloves creaked slightly.

"I'm fucked," he whispered to the night.

but this time... it didn't sound like a complaint.

it sounded like a beginning.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

minho didn't sleep much that night.

he had tried - he really had. but every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was jisung. the idea of him. the warmth of his eyes, the tilt of his mouth, the way his laughter played in minho's ears on a loop like a favourite song.

it had followed him into his dreams and bled into the early morning light, until minho finally gave up, rolled out of bed with his hair a mess and heart beating too loud.

but there was one thing anchoring him.

the notes.

there would be another one today. he was sure of it.

every single day like clockwork, there had been a note. always folded neatly. always tucked just inside the door of his locker, like a secret slipped in with care.

and every time, it was signed the same way: never a name, just h. and minho, the idiot he'd become, had grown to expect it. look forward to it. need it.

especially after the last one.

he'd read that one so many times, the corners had started curling. It lived in his back pocket now, like a second skin. that one had cracked something open in him. there had been longing in those words. real, soft, aching honesty. someone had written that with their heart bleeding through their pen.

and minho... knew who it was.

he'd been in denial for days, maybe longer. but yesterday at lunch - when jisung had looked at him like that, when the world had gone quiet around them and nothing had existed except those wide, glassy eyes and flushed cheeks minho knew.

jisung was the one writing the notes.

and that thought had filled him with something terrifying and beautiful.

so, he made a decision.

next note... he was going to do something.

he wasn't going to just pocket it quietly like always, read it alone like it was a secret he wasn't worthy of. no. this time, when he opened his locker and found another folded piece of paper, he'd do what he'd been wanting to do for days.

he would find jisung.

and he would talk to him.

tell him he knew. that he felt it too.

that he wanted him.

so when minho stepped into the building that morning, he felt strangely light. determined. confident in a way he hadn't felt in weeks. there was a spring in his step, something quietly gleaming in his chest. he walked to his locker without hesitation, without dread, like he knew there would be something waiting for him.

the second he reached it, he drew in a soft breath, hand already lifting to open the door.

he was ready.

he opened it.

and-

nothing.

no paper. no note. no trace.

just his books. a spare hoodie. the wrapper from a protein bar he forgot to throw away. but no delicate fold of confession. no messy handwriting.

minho blinked. closed the locker. opened it again.

still nothing.

his stomach dropped.

the confident haze shattered instantly, replaced by confusion. then panic. then- something darker. disappointment, sharp and bitter on his tongue.

he stood there for too long. just staring.

people brushed past him, talking, laughing, lockers clanging open and shut. the world moved on. but minho didn't.

there was supposed to be a note.

there was always a note.

why wasn't there one today?

did something happen?

was it a mistake?

did jisung... change his mind?

the confidence he'd been holding onto so tightly cracked. he tried to swallow it down, tried to breathe around the sudden weight in his chest. maybe it was a fluke. maybe jisung forgot. maybe-maybe he was sick, or late, or-

or maybe he'd said everything he wanted to say already.

maybe he was done.

minho closed his locker, quieter this time. the metal made a soft click, but it felt loud in his ears. the hallway felt colder now. harsher.

he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away slowly, trying to ignore the gnawing ache in his chest.

he didn't want to admit it, but the thought had taken root.

what if jisung had stopped writing... because he thought minho didn't care?

what if it was too late?

what if he missed his chance?

minho had never hated silence more than he did right now.

and god, did he miss jisung.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

jisung hadn't slept much either.

he'd laid awake in his bed the night before, eyes fixed on the ceiling, the soft hum of his fan doing little to quiet the storm in his head.

his pillow was a mess - twisted under his neck from how many times he'd turned over - and the blanket half on, half off the bed. his notebook sat untouched on his desk, the pen lying across it like a reminder of everything he was too afraid to say.

it had become a ritual, almost - writing to minho. carefully choosing his words, pouring his heart into the page, then folding the note with shaky fingers and sneaking it into

minho's locker like he wasn't cracking open his soul with every letter. but last night... he couldn't do it. the words wouldn't come. they were all trapped inside him, tangled with doubt and fear and longing so sharp it hurt.

and now here he was.

sitting in class, staring at the board, not hearing a single word the teacher was saying.

jisung's head was a mess.

he barely noticed the way his leg bounced under the desk, how tightly he gripped the edge of the table, or how his eyes kept flickering to the clock like it could save him. he was stuck in his head again - his least favorite place lately.

that was when felix's voice cut through the haze.

"jisung?"

a beat. then more firmly- "jisung!"

he flinched like he'd been slapped, eyes going wide as he snapped his gaze to felix.

"wh-what?" he stammered, heart pounding like he'd just been yanked out of a nightmare.

felix's brows drew together in concern, his voice softer now. "the teacher's explaining something important."

jisung nodded quickly, like he could pretend to care. "right. yeah. sorry."

he looked back at the board. tried to focus. tried to pretend that his entire body wasn't vibrating with anxiety and heartbreak and the kind of emotional exhaustion that made it hard to breathe. but his eyes blurred over the moment he looked at the formulas scrawled in chalk.

because how the hell was he supposed to care about formulas when all he could think about was him?

minho.

minho, with his unreadable eyes and the leather jacket he wore like armor.
minho, who had looked at him like- like maybe he was worth something.
minho, who was far too beautiful and far too good for someone like jisung.

it wasn't fair.

it wasn't fair that someone like minho even glanced at someone like him, let alone held his gaze like he wanted to. it made everything worse.

because now that jisung had tasted what it felt like to be seen by minho, he didn't know how to go back. he didn't know how to sit in a classroom and pretend he wasn't falling apart.

it was easier before.

before minho ever turned his head.
before those eyes - sharp, unreadable, and so devastatingly beautiful - ever looked at jisung.

before a single moment in the cafeteria shattered everything jisung had carefully built around himself.

he used to be able to manage his feelings. Keep them in neat little boxes, safely stored where no one could see them. minho was just a beautiful boy with a leather jacket and a motorcycle and a mysterious kind of silence that jisung found himself drawn to like gravity.

and that was fine.

he could admire minho from a distance. that was the rule. that was the deal. look, but don't touch. feel, but don't show. want, but don't hope.

because hope was dangerous.

but then - minho had looked at him. not just a glance, not a casual pass. he had seen jisung. had looked at him like he mattered. like he was someone worth seeing. like he wasn't just another face in the crowd. and for a second, for one breathless second in that noisy cafeteria, everything shifted.

and now jisung was terrified.

because minho knowing he existed - that changed everything.

jisung didn't know how to carry himself around that kind of attention. he wasn't built for it. he wasn't smooth or charismatic or confident. he was awkward, a little too loud sometimes, quiet in the wrong moments, emotional to a fault. he made dumb jokes when he was nervous, forgot what he was saying mid-sentence, cried at movies he'd already seen five times.

minho didn't need someone like that.

minho needed someone calm. someone who didn't fall apart at the idea of a conversation. someone who could look back at him without trembling. someone grounded. someone who could reach into the storm minho might carry inside and just - hold it. carry it. understand it.

jisung didn't know if he could be that.

sure, he wanted to be. he wanted to be the one minho came to after a bad day. the one who could listen without needing to fix everything. the one minho could lean on and trust. the one who could make him feel safe, wanted, seen - not for his looks or his reputation or whatever image people made up - but for him. the real minho.

but how could jisung give minho stability when he didn't even know how to be stable himself?

he didn't know how to make himself happy most days. he spent more time pretending to be fine than actually being fine. he second-guessed himself constantly. he felt too much all the time. and when he let himself dream, it always came crashing down too quickly, like it wasn't meant for him in the first place.

how was he supposed to be someone's safe place when he didn't even feel safe inside his own mind?

but the thing was- he loved minho.

it wasn't some silly crush anymore. it wasn't just about how good he looked in black or how effortlessly cool he was. no, it was the small things now. the way minho tapped his fingers when he was lost in thought. the quiet way he watched people when they weren't looking. the way he held himself - like he was always a little bit tired, but never let it show.

jisung loved that minho. the whole of him. the messy parts, the complicated ones. all of it.

and wasn't that pathetic?

that someone like him - someone so small, so unsure, so full of doubt - could love someone like minho so much it made his chest ache.

he knew it was stupid. he knew he was probably out of his league.

because minho was a symphony, and jisung was a broken song on repeat.
minho was thunder in the distance, and jisung was barely a whisper.

minho was everything, and jisung... wasn't sure what he was anymore.

but he loved him.

god, he loved him. and that made everything worse.

because maybe he didn't deserve someone like minho.

but that didn't stop his heart from aching for him anyway.

tears filled his eyes before he could stop them. he pressed his palms to his face, trying to smother the sound of the shaky breath he dragged in.

pull it together, he begged himself. not here. not in front of everyone.

felix noticed. of course he did.

his hand found jisung's back, rubbing slow, gentle circles between his shoulder blades. the kind of touch that said, I'm here. I see you.

"it's gonna be okay," felix whispered, leaning in.

but jisung shook his head, his hands trembling where they pressed against his face. "it's not okay," he said, voice breaking.

he pulled his hands away just enough to look at felix, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I'm just making a fool of myself. with the notes too. okay, yeah, he reads them. but that doesn't mean he... he cares."

the last word came out like a confession.

felix's brows drew together, heart breaking at the sight of him. "sungie, that's not true-"

"I'm not gonna write today."

the words were barely a whisper. but they hit like a hammer.

felix stared at him. "what? why?"

jisung shook his head, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie. "it's a mess in my head, lix. I want to say so many things to him and I just... I can't do it."

his voice cracked, and the tears slipped past his lashes before he could stop them.

"I keep thinking I'm not enough. that I'm just some kid with stupid feelings who's trying to force himself into someone else's story. and maybe that's all I am. I mean- look at him. and then look at me."

felix didn't say anything right away. he just pulled jisung into his side, held him there in silence as the classroom went on around them like nothing had happened.

but something had happened.

jisung had given his heart away in tiny pieces, and today... he was too scared to give any more of it.

and so, minho's locker stayed empty.

and jisung stayed quiet.

even if it broke both of them.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

minho couldn't focus. not even a little.

he sat in the middle of class, elbow propped against the desk, cheek resting in his palm, staring at the open notebook in front of him - not because he was taking notes, but because tucked inside that notebook were the notes.

his fingers itched to read them again. like he hadn't already read them a dozen times each. like he didn't already know the words by heart.

still, he slipped the top one out and unfolded it slowly, careful not to crinkle the corners more than they already were. the handwriting - messy, chaotic, emotional - was already so familiar. he scanned over the words again, his chest tightening with every sentence.

> you make me want to write songs and punch walls and cry and laugh all at the same time.

> I don't know what you did to me, but every time I see you, I forget how to be normal.

god.

it had to be jisung.

minho knew it deep in his gut, and minho trusted his gut. there was no one else who looked at him like jisung did. no one else who stuttered when minho passed them in the hall, who flushed when their eyes met, who froze when minho said his name. the handwriting... the energy of it... the emotional chaos written into every curve of the letters - it screamed jisung.

but still.

what if I'm wrong?

that thought lingered like a shadow. what if he confronted jisung, and it turned out to be someone else? what if he made a fool of himself? what if jisung didn't want him back?

no.
no, screw that.

it was jisung. and minho needed to talk to someone before he lost his mind.

so during lunch, he sent a text.

> [minho]: hyung. library. 15 minutes? need to talk.

chan had replied almost immediately.

> [chan]: yeah of course. you okay?

> [minho]: just... come. please.

-

the library was quiet. warm.

minho sat tucked into one of the far corners, the notes spread out in front of him like evidence in a case he was building. his fingers drummed restlessly against the table until he heard soft footsteps approach.

"hey," chan whispered as he sat down across from him, eyes darting to the papers between them.

"hey," minho muttered back.

and then, without thinking too hard, he let it spill.

everything.

he told chan about the notes. about how they started showing up weeks ago, tucked into his locker like little secrets. about how they'd changed - from vague, quiet affection to loud, desperate yearning. How they made him feel warm and confused and seen in a way he wasn't used to.

then he told him about jisung.

about how he noticed jisung before the notes. the way jisung would linger at the edge of conversations, eyes flickering nervously toward him like he didn't mean to stare.

how minho had always caught those glances, had started looking for them. how that one day in the cafeteria - their eyes locking, neither looking away - had shaken him to his core.

"I think it's him," minho said, voice low, barely audible. "I know it's him, hyung. it has to be."

chan nodded, resting his chin in his hand, a tiny smile forming on his lips.

"you know," he said, "I kind of... figured."

minho blinked. "you what?"

chan chuckled softly. "I saw it. that day seungmin introduced hyunjin? you and jisung - there was a moment. like the world slowed down for a second and neither of you noticed anything except each other. I remember thinking, 'ah, this is gonna be a thing'."

minho looked away, heart pounding.

"I feel insane," he admitted, almost laughing. "like I'm in some cheesy drama or something. I can't stop thinking about him. I imagine what it'd be like if he was mine. I want to hold him. I want to... god, I want to kiss him so bad it hurts. I want to keep him."

his voice cracked a little on the last word. he hadn't meant to say it quite like that.

chan was quiet for a moment. then he reached across the table and gently placed a hand over minho's.

"you're not insane," he said softly. "you're just in it. really in it. and it's okay to feel like this. it's good to feel like this."

minho looked down at their hands, then back up at chan.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted.

"you wait for the next note," chan said. "and then you talk to him. don't wait too long. he deserves to know. and so do you."

minho nodded slowly, the weight in his chest easing just a little.

"thank you," he said.

chan gave his hand a small squeeze. "anytime, min."

minho stood after a moment, stuffing the notes carefully back into his notebook, like he was tucking away something sacred. as they left the library together, chan pulled him into a hug - warm, firm, grounding.

and minho let himself be held.

he let himself believe that maybe this whole thing wasn't just a fantasy.
that maybe, soon, he'd be holding jisung instead.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the next morning came in slow and heavy.

minho sat on the edge of his bed, fully dressed, keys in his palm, but unmoving. he'd woken up early - earlier than usual - not out of obligation, but out of some quiet, humming anticipation that settled low in his chest.

today. today he was sure the note would come.

after talking to chan, he'd felt... steady. like something in him had finally aligned. he'd gone home last night and read every single note again, slowly, as if trying to feel jisung through the paper, the words, the soft curls of ink.

every sentence still shook him to the core. every line made him ache in a way that didn't feel like pain anymore - just longing, just hope.

he tucked the notes back into the small, square envelope he kept them in now - one of those fancy thick-paper kinds that used to hold gift cards. it lived in the inside pocket of his denim jacket. right against his chest. where no one could see. but where he could always feel it.

he even picked out his outfit differently that morning. stared at himself in the mirror too long. swapped shirts twice. eventually settled on something simple - still him, still casual, but... softer. like a secret only he knew.

because if the note came today, it was the last one.

after that, he was going to talk to jisung.

he was going to do something.

minho walked to school with his helmet dangling from his hand instead of his head, motorcycle parked a few blocks away like usual. he kept his pace steady but his heart was racing. his locker wasn't even that far from the main entrance, and still, it felt like a marathon getting there.

he forced himself not to rush. not to look suspicious. just walk.

step. step. step. locker. he reached out, turned the dial slowly. heart in his throat. fingers trembling.

the lock clicked. the door swung open.

empty.

just books. just papers. no note. no familiar slant of messy handwriting folded between his folders.

minho blinked.

then blinked again.

he reached in, thumbed through everything - careful, just in case he missed it. he pulled the folders out, shook the textbooks lightly.

nothing.

no note.

minho's stomach sank like a stone dropped in still water. the hallway around him blurred for a moment, the usual clatter of early morning footsteps muffled by the sudden whooshing silence in his ears.

no note.

but... why?

he leaned against the locker door, shutting his eyes briefly. his chest ached, confusion curling through him like smoke. was jisung sick? did he change his mind? did he regret writing all of it?

or worse...

did jisung think minho didn't care?

the thought hit minho square in the chest, sharp and suffocating. his brain scrambled to piece things together, to find something - anything - that could explain it.

but he had nothing. no clues. just silence.

he spent the rest of the morning trying to focus, but every class blurred into static. his body was present, but his mind was on loop. he kept picturing jisung. the way he looked down at his desk when he thought no one was watching. the way his knee bounced when he was anxious. the way his eyes sparkled with something soft and terrified and real when they locked eyes last time.

minho bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted metal.

something had happened.

and now- now the silence felt unbearable.

by third period, he gave up trying to pretend he was okay. he slipped his phone from his pocket and typed a message to chan under the desk.

> [minho]: no note today.

> [minho]: I don't know what happened.

> [chan]: did you see him?

> [minho]: not yet. he's probably in class. but...

> [minho]: something's off.

> [chan]: talk to him.

minho stared at the screen, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

> [chan]: just do it. if you wait too long, you'll both spiral.

minho sucked in a sharp breath.

he was right.

no more waiting.

even if he was wrong - even if jisung had never written a single letter - minho had to know.

he had to try.

because something inside of him was already unraveling, and he wasn't sure how many more days of silence he could take.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the minute the bell rang, jisung was out of his seat. he didn't wait for the teacher to finish wrapping up, didn't say anything to jeongin or felix other than a rushed, "I need some fresh air," before slipping his bag over one shoulder and weaving through the flood of students pouring into the hallway.

he didn't give them time to ask if he was okay. he wasn't. and he didn't want to lie.

his feet carried him toward the back of campus on autopilot, past the maintenance building, beyond the last row of classrooms, to the place he always went when it felt like the world was pushing in too close - an old wooden picnic table nestled under a crooked tree, right at the edge of the fence line. hidden. quiet. his place.

the moment he sat down, a breath whooshed from his chest like he'd been holding it for hours.

jisung leaned back and tilted his head toward the sky. the clouds moved slow today. like they weren't in a hurry to be anywhere. he envied them.

for a while, he just sat there, letting the chill in the air press gently into his skin. then he looked down at the scarred tabletop, fingernail tracing the old carvings there - initials, random words, a poorly etched heart someone had once scribbled in the wood.

then his eyes shifted to his backpack.

he stared at it.

no.

but his fingers were already moving.

by the time he unzipped the bag and pulled out the folded paper and pen, jisung had stopped pretending he had control. the words were already in him. they just needed out.

he flattened the paper on the table. his hand shook once - but then the pen hit the page.

and he wrote.

> I love you.
yes, I really do. I know it now. It's creepy, isn't it?
the person who was leaving you those small notes at first is saying that he loves you. but I can't help it. I fell. I fell hard.
but I somehow don't regret it.
I just... I'm lost. because I don't think you deserve someone like me. someone who is a mess.
I can't sort my thoughts. I can't say the things I'm thinking about. it's hard.
that's why I started writing to you. because I can't say it to your face. because I'm a coward. that's what I am.

> remember when I wrote that you were living rent-free in my head? that you're rearranging the furniture?
well, you're having a full-blown concert in my head now. I can't shut you up, even if I wanted to.
but the truth is, I don't want to shut you up. I would never shut you up.
because I love it when you talk. I love your voice. it's soft.
it's so soft that it doesn't match your sharp features or your bruised knuckles.
it's extraordinary. and I love this about you.
I love everything about you. every single thing.
the prettiest parts. the ugliest parts. everything.

> I love you so much it hurts.
I want to be there for you. I want to be the person you could lean on when the world is too much.
I want to be the person you trust the most.
I want to be... yours.
that's what I want. to be yours, minho.
I want it so bad. I really want so bad.
but look at me. unable to say any of this while looking at you.
pathetic. I know I am.
but this pathetic person loves you.
my heart is yours. it's completely yours by now.

> ...It had been yours from the start.

he paused, staring at the last line as the words settled into the page. as if they had weight.

his heart was hammering again.

he didn't even know what he was going to do with the letter - if he'd slip it into minho's locker later, or tear it into a thousand pieces before anyone could see. he just needed to write it. get it out. maybe then his chest would stop aching.

but he didn't get the chance to decide.

because then‐

"jisung."

the sound of his name - soft, familiar, far too real - cut through the quiet like thunder.

jisung flinched, eyes snapping upward. he knew that voice. he knew it.

and there - just a few feet away from the picnic table, hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket, mouth drawn in a careful line, face unreadable - stood minho.

jisung's breath caught. his fingers clutched the edges of the paper still laid out in front of him. his eyes widened, panic flickering behind them, chest rising with each shaky inhale.

what was minho doing here?

how long had he been standing there?

had he seen?

jisung swallowed.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

minho's legs were moving before his brain could catch up. the second the bell rang, he was already halfway out of his seat, his mind locked on one thing - jisung.

no more waiting. no more guessing games. no more "what ifs." he needed to talk to him. right now.

he moved through the crowd of students like a current cutting through still water, eyes scanning the hallway, searching. When he spotted jeongin and felix just outside the classroom door, his chest lifted - hopeful - but it crashed again just as quickly when jisung wasn't with them.

still, minho didn't pause. he walked straight toward them, fueled by instinct more than intention.

"where's jisung?"

jeongin blinked, startled. "why are-"

"the picnic table behind the campus building," felix interrupted smoothly, flashing minho a smile just a little too bright, a little too knowing.

minho didn't ask any more questions. he just nodded, turned, and walked away.

jeongin stared after him. "why does he need jisung?"

felix was still grinning, practically bouncing where he stood. "I don't know, but- who cares. minho is searching for jisung. minho. wants. to. see. jisung. minho. the lee minho-"

"okay, okay!" jeongin groaned, already walking away. "I got it!"

felix just giggled, skipping to catch up.

-

minho pushed the back doors open with both hands, the chill of afternoon air brushing against his face. the campus behind the building was quiet, almost peaceful. no voices, no footsteps. just the rustle of trees and the occasional sound of distant traffic.

and then, there he was.

jisung.

sitting alone at the old wooden picnic table nestled beneath the crooked tree, hunched over a sheet of paper, pen in hand. his backpack lay half-open beside him. the sun filtered through the sparse branches, casting scattered beams across his figure, lighting his hair like gold, outlining his shoulders, the side of his cheek.

minho stopped.

just for a moment.

because he needed a second.

he needed a second to breathe.

because everything inside him - the chaos, the questions, the feelings he hadn't been able to name for weeks - felt like it was about to collapse into one small, trembling word: jisung.

god, he looked beautiful. so soft. so fragile and strong at the same time. like a story waiting to be read.

minho's chest ached.

he took a breath, deeper this time, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket to ground himself, to stop himself from reaching out already. and then he moved forward, each step steady but hesitant, like walking toward something sacred.

when he was only a few steps away, he finally spoke.

"jisung."

it came out softer than he meant it to. his voice - normally sharp and sure - sounded careful. reverent.

jisung flinched.

his head jerked up, eyes wide, breath caught in his throat. and for a second, they just stared at each other. the moment stretched long between them. the sunlight. the breeze. the paper still trembling slightly in jisung's hands.

and god, minho could see it now.

he could feel it.

the letter. the truth of it, even from a distance. he didn't need to read the words to know what it meant. he already knew. he knew.

but he didn't say anything just yet.

because all he could do, in that moment, was look at him.

minho took another step forward.

it was slow, deliberate - like he didn't want to scare jisung off. like he was approaching something fragile, something breakable, something precious.

and jisung didn't move. he couldn't.

his body was rooted to the bench, spine straight with tension, fingers still clutching the letter in his hand like a lifeline. his mind was screaming at him to do something, say something, run maybe - but his limbs didn't listen. they were frozen. everything inside him was frozen.

because minho was right there.

and he was looking at jisung like he already knew.

like he had read every single word in that letter without even touching it.

like he had felt every line - every whisper of love, every confession of insecurity, every trembling thought that had spilled out of jisung's soul and onto that stupid piece of paper.

the wind rustled the trees around them softly. somewhere, a bird chirped once and then fell quiet again.

and still, minho stood there - just looking.

jisung's eyes darted everywhere - anywhere that wasn't minho's face - but they kept being pulled back to him.

because he couldn't stop himself. because minho was standing there with the sunlight glinting off his dark hair, with the wind tugging gently at the hem of his leather jacket, and jisung's heart was crumbling apart at the seams.

he swallowed again, hard, trying to breathe past the panic.

and then he whispered, his voice cracked and barely audible, "...how long were you standing there?"

minho blinked. pike he hadn't expected jisung to speak first. pike he wasn't sure jisung would say anything at all. but then he answered, voice just as soft, achingly gentle. "long enough."

the silence that followed should've been unbearable, but it wasn't - not really. it was electric. charged. like the space between them had filled with something too heavy, too meaningful, too real to put into words.

jisung's fingers curled tighter around the paper, the corner of the note crumpling beneath the pressure.

his panic swelled. "I-I was just- it's not what it looks like."

minho tilted his head slightly, eyes still locked on him, unreadable but patient. "then what is it?"

and that was the thing. jisung didn't know how to answer that. how could he explain what it was? how could he unravel all the things tied up inside that letter? all the things he couldn't say out loud?

his gaze dropped back to the words on the paper. I love you.

he could barely look at them now.

minho stepped closer. his voice lowered even more, like it wasn't meant to be heard by anyone but jisung. "why did you stop leaving notes?"

jisung's heart stopped.

just like that, the world tilted. the breeze vanished. the sunlight dimmed.

minho knew.

he knew jisung had been the one leaving the notes.

jisung's lips parted, but no sound came out. his throat felt like it was closing in on itself, and every nerve in his body was firing all at once. embarrassment, horror, joy, fear, hope- he didn't even know what emotion was hitting him first. he was shaking. physically shaking.

minho stepped to the edge of the bench, close enough now that jisung could feel the warmth of him even in the chill air. his eyes drifted down, to the piece of paper still trembling in jisung's hands.

"were you going to give me this one?" he asked, his voice still soft. still impossibly tender. like he didn't want to break whatever fragile, invisible thread was holding jisung together.

jisung didn't answer. couldn't.

minho looked up again, and jisung met his eyes - and god, the way he looked at him.

it was like minho was looking at the stars. like jisung had somehow become the sun and moon and everything in between. it was too much. too bright. too real.

"I wanted to talk to you," minho said quietly, hands still in his pockets. "I've been wanting to for days. I thought maybe if I waited... there'd be another note. something to help me find the right words."

jisung's breathing hitched. he felt like he was about to fly apart.

minho stepped even closer, and jisung's knees brushed against the edge of minho's jacket.

"I didn't need the note to know, jisung," minho whispered. "I already knew it was you. it was always you."

jisung stared up at him, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, and for the first time in his life, he didn't know what came next.

so he just swallowed-hard.

and waited.

minho watched jisung swallow like he was bracing himself for a storm, and maybe he was - because there was no doubt about it anymore. they were standing on the edge of something big. something fragile. something neither of them could undo once the next words were spoken.

jisung looked like he wanted to disappear.

his shoulders were hunched, his eyes wide and glossy, his fingers trembling over the paper in his hand. that little note - creased now, smudged at the edges with sweat from jisung's palms - was still clutched like it could protect him. but minho didn't want to take it. not yet.

he wanted to hear it from jisung. he wanted jisung to trust him with it.

the air between them was thick with words that hadn't yet been said, but minho wasn't afraid of them anymore. he took a slow breath, steadying his heart, and spoke first again.

"I know you thought that I didn't care, and that's why you stopped" he said softly, "but I did. I do."

jisung's eyes flicked up to him - quick, almost disbelieving.

minho gave a quiet smile, more to himself than to jisung. "I was waiting for the next one. I didn't even realize how much I needed them until they weren't there anymore."

a shaky breath escaped jisung's lips, and he looked down again, blinking fast like he was trying to keep his tears in check. his fingers tightened around the letter again. "I didn't think... I thought maybe I crossed a line," he said, voice breaking on the last word. "said too much."

"you didn't," minho said immediately, no hesitation. "everything you wrote - every line - it meant something to me."

he took a step closer, close enough now that if he reached forward, he could brush his fingers against jisung's knees.

"I started looking forward to opening my locker," he continued. "to seeing that little folded piece of paper. I used to walk through the halls and wonder who it could be, but then... then I started hoping it was you."

jisung's head snapped up again, eyes wide with disbelief, and minho saw the moment it hit him - really hit him - that he meant it.

minho gave a quiet laugh, nervous but sincere. "you were always around, always kind, always looking at me when you thought I wouldn't notice. and I noticed, jisung. I noticed everything."

jisung didn't say anything, but his expression cracked open - like the tension in his chest was finally letting go. he looked like he was fighting to believe it, like he was waiting for minho to take it all back. but minho didn't.

he reached forward, hand steady, and gently brushed his fingers against the crumpled edge of the letter in jisung's hand. "can I read it?"

jisung hesitated, heart visibly racing in his chest, and then- slowly, like he was handing over a piece of his soul - he held the note out to minho.

minho took it with both hands, careful not to tear it, smoothing out the edges as he unfolded it.

and then he read.

he read every word, every line of heartbreak and longing and love that jisung had poured into the page. the handwriting was a little messy, a little rushed, but the emotion behind it was undeniable.

> I love you.

> yes, I really do.

minho swallowed thickly. his chest ached with every sentence, not because they hurt, but because they were so honest. so open. and god, how long had jisung been carrying all of this alone?

he read it all - about how jisung didn't think he was good enough, about how he wanted to be minho's safe place, how he thought minho's voice was soft despite the rough edges, how he loved everything about him - even the ugly parts.

and then that last line:

> it had been yours from the start.

minho lowered the letter slowly, blinking down at it, and for a moment, he couldn't speak.

when he looked up again, jisung was staring at him like he was bracing to be torn apart.

but minho didn't move to speak yet. he sat down instead - right beside jisung on the bench, close enough that their thighs touched, their knees bumped, and jisung sucked in a breath like the air had been knocked out of him.

minho didn't look at him right away. he just looked down at the letter in his lap, his voice quiet when he finally spoke.

"I think I fell for you through these letters, you know," he said. "but now I'm sitting here and-" he turned his head, looked at jisung, and smiled with something so soft it made jisung's eyes burn. "-it's nothing compared to the real thing."

jisung blinked. "the... real thing?"

"you," minho said. "you, here, now. talking to me. looking at me like I matter."

jisung shook his head quickly, eyes glassy. "you do matter-"

"I know," minho said gently, "and you do too."

and that was it.

that was the moment jisung broke.

he let out a quiet, breathless sob and covered his face with his hands, and minho didn't wait - he leaned in and wrapped his arms around jisung's shoulders, pulling him close, holding him like he meant it. and he did. he really did.

jisung melted into him immediately, burying his face into minho's shoulder, clutching at the front of his jacket like he might disappear otherwise.

minho ran his fingers through jisung's hair and whispered, "you're not pathetic, jisung. you're brave. you wrote every one of these notes from your heart, and I'm so fucking lucky that they were meant for me."

jisung didn't say anything. he couldn't. he just nodded into minho's shoulder, tears soaking into the fabric of his jacket as the sun dipped a little lower in the sky, casting golden light over both of them.

and for the first time in a long time, the world felt like it had stilled. like it had paused just for them.

like maybe... just maybe, they were both exactly where they were meant to be.

the warmth of minho's embrace lingered even as the breeze swept through the campus trees, rustling the leaves in a gentle hum around them.

jisung's body trembled slightly - whether from the breeze or the emotion, minho couldn't tell. he held him tighter anyway. he didn't want him to pull away. not yet. maybe not ever.

neither of them spoke for a long moment. time seemed to exist differently at that picnic table. It didn't move forward. it didn't push them toward the next thing. it just let them be. let them breathe. let them feel.

minho's fingers continued to move through jisung's hair - soft, steady strokes, like he was memorizing the shape of his head, the weight of his pain, the tremble of his sighs. and when jisung's breathing finally began to slow, when his shoulders no longer shook, minho whispered, "are you okay?"

jisung nodded against him first, but then, quietly, "no. not really."

minho's lips curved into the gentlest smile. "thank you for being honest."

"I... I don't know how to feel right now," jisung admitted, his voice hoarse from tears. "I've been living in this daydream version of you for so long. now you're here. you're real. you're holding me. and it doesn't make sense."

"it does," minho murmured. "it makes so much sense."

jisung pulled back just enough to look at him, his eyes red-rimmed, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted in disbelief. "why?"

minho reached out slowly, carefully, and wiped a tear from the corner of jisung's eye with the pad of his thumb. his touch was soft. reverent. "because you saw me before anyone else did. not just who I showed to the world, but me. you saw all of it. and you loved me through it. without ever asking for anything back."

jisung's lips quivered. "I didn't think I was allowed to want something back."

"you are," minho said. his voice was unwavering. sure. "you are allowed to want. to ask. to take up space. you're allowed to be loved, jisung."

jisung shook his head, but minho caught his face in both hands now, holding it steady, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"I mean it," minho said, gently, firmly. "you keep calling yourself a mess like it's a bad thing. like I'm not a mess too."

"you're not-"

"I am," minho interrupted, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "I get angry. I shut people out. I'm rough around the edges and I never say the right thing the first time. but you still saw good in me. and if I don't give that same grace to you, then I'm a hypocrite."

jisung stared at him like he was trying to believe him, and minho leaned in, their foreheads brushing, breaths mingling in the tiny space between.

"you are not too much," minho whispered. "you're not pathetic. you're not a coward. you're the reason I got out of bed some days. you're the reason I started feeling like I wasn't alone."

jisung let out a shaky breath, his fingers wrapping tightly around the front of minho's jacket again. "I didn't know how else to talk to you. the notes... they were the only way I could say what I wanted. I thought... if you ever found out it was me, you'd laugh. or hate it. or hate me."

"I never could," minho said, without even a beat of hesitation. "not even a little."

there was a pause - deep and weighty.

and then minho's voice dropped just a bit lower. "can I kiss you?"

jisung froze.

his eyes widened again, lips parting as his heart threw itself into chaos. "what?"

minho was still, waiting. "only if you want me to."

jisung didn't answer with words. instead, he surged forward and pressed his lips to minho's.

it was clumsy. a little too fast. but it was also real and raw and everything jisung had dreamed of. and minho melted into it like he'd been waiting for this moment his entire life.

their lips moved together slowly after that first heartbeat. gentle, exploratory. a little nervous, a little desperate. minho's hands slid to jisung's cheeks, thumbs brushing away the last traces of his tears, and jisung's fingers dug into the fabric of minho's jacket, like he was afraid he'd wake up and none of this would be real.

but it was real. all of it.

minho pulled away just to look at jisung, his flushed face, wide eyes and parted lips and-

"god," was the only thing minho managed to whisper before he was kissing jisung again, because he couldn't get enough of him.

jisung was finally here, in front of him, in his arms, and minho couldn't let go.

the kiss ended only when they were both too breathless to continue, and even then, they stayed close - noses brushing, foreheads resting together, breathing each other in like the world might vanish if they didn't.

"I didn't faint..." jisung said, voice almost audible.

minho looked down at him and chuckled. "what?" he asked softly, a smile on his face.

jisung lifted his head to look at minho and his cheeks immediately flushed. "I-I... I thought that I will faint when you kiss me b-but I didn't..." he looked down, his cheeks burning.

a slow smirk appeared on minho's lips. "so you were fantasising about me kissing you, huh?"

jisung's face burned of how red it was and he buried it in the crook of minho's neck, trying somehow to hide himself.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," minho whispered, smiling, his arms wrapping protectively around jisung.

"me too," jisung breathed, still dazed, still glowing.

minho chuckled softly, and then his eyes softened. "can I keep this?" he held up the note again, the one jisung had nearly crumpled in panic.

jisung lifted his head to look at the piece of paper and bit his lip, but nodded. "yeah. it's yours."

minho folded it carefully and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket, right over his heart. "it always was."

they sat there for a while longer, shoulder to shoulder, watching the sun begin to dip low on the horizon, bathing the campus in gold and rose.

and when minho reached over and laced their fingers together - firm, warm, sure - jisung didn't flinch.

he held on.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the sunset painted the sky in shades of fire - orange bleeding into pink, fading into the soft lilac of early twilight. the warmth clung to the edges of their skin, a soft glow wrapping around them as if the world itself had paused to take in what had just happened.

minho and jisung still sat side by side at the picnic table, their fingers intertwined like they'd been meant to fit together all along.

minho's thumb brushed slow circles over jisung's knuckles, absent and constant, like he was reassuring them both that this was real. that neither of them would wake up and find it gone.

jisung hadn't said much since the kiss. his head leaned lightly against minho's shoulder, and his eyes stared somewhere out into the horizon, but minho knew his mind was running.

he could feel it in the quiet tension beneath his skin, in the way jisung's grip would tighten every few seconds, like he needed to remind himself that he was still holding on. that minho hadn't let go.

he never would.

"I'm sorry," jisung whispered suddenly, voice barely louder than the breeze.

minho blinked. he turned his head just slightly to glance down at him. "why are you sorry?"

"for... everything. for the hiding. for the notes. for not saying anything sooner. for not saying anything better now." he gave a small, bitter laugh. "god, even now I'm just saying dumb things. I should say something romantic or beautiful or-"

"you already did," minho said, cutting him off softly. "every note you wrote was beautiful."

jisung opened his mouth to argue, but minho gently turned his face with one hand, guiding his gaze back to him.

"you told me things I didn't even know I needed to hear. you wrote to me when I felt completely unreachable. you loved me in silence when I thought no one saw me at all. that's not something you apologize for."

jisung's lip wobbled. "but you deserve more. you deserve someone who can actually tell you all those things to your face. not someone who hides behind scraps of notebook paper."

"I want you," minho said, plainly. "not someone else. not a braver version of you. not someone with the right words at the right time. you. just as you are."

jisung stared at him for a long moment, like he didn't quite know what to do with that. his mouth pressed into a trembling line, and then he ducked his head, laughing through the thickness in his throat.

"you're really good at saying the perfect thing, you know?"

minho smirked. "only when it's about you."

jisung's laugh turned watery again, and minho wrapped his arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer until jisung tucked himself in like he belonged there. because he did.

they sat in silence again for a moment, letting the stillness fill the space between words.

minho leaned his head back, watching the last traces of daylight bleed into the horizon.

"I was scared too," he said quietly. "when I realized it might be you leaving those notes. I was scared that I'd imagined it. that I wanted it too badly. that I'd scare you off if I got too close."

"I was already terrified," jisung murmured. "I kept thinking - if you found out it was me, you'd laugh. or worse - you'd pity me."

"I could never pity you."

"still... you're you. you walk through the halls like you don't need anyone. you talk like nothing gets to you. and I-" he stopped himself, frowning. "I just... I felt like I was never enough."

minho turned to him fully now, their knees brushing.

"you are everything," he said, each word slow and deliberate. "you don't have to be fearless or strong all the time. you don't need to always have the right thing to say. I just want you - how you are. mess and all. especially the mess."

jisung stared, cheeks flushed, lip caught between his teeth again.

then quietly, "can you kiss me again?"

minho didn't answer.

he just leaned in and kissed him - slowly this time, lingering and soft. the kind of kiss that didn't rush, didn't beg, didn't need to prove anything. it was just a promise. a beginning.

jisung leaned into it with a small sound in the back of his throat, his fingers tangling in the collar of minho's jacket. minho smiled against his lips before pulling back slightly, noses brushing.

"I could get used to this," minho whispered.

the evening air had grown cooler, but neither of them seemed to notice.

minho's jacket was warm against jisung's fingers, and his breath was still brushing jisung's skin when he whispered, "I could get used to this." It sent a shiver down jisung's spine - not just from the words, but from the way he said them. like he meant it. like he already had.

jisung's face was flushed, a deep and helpless kind of red, but his grin bloomed anyway - uneven and crooked and so real it made minho want to kiss it away all over again.

"I don't know what to do with you," jisung said, voice light but edged with disbelief.

minho chuckled, resting his forehead against jisung's. "good. I was hoping I'd be a little confusing."

jisung let out a small, breathless laugh. "you are. you're like- cool and untouchable one second, and then saying stuff that makes me want to cry the next."

"that's just my natural charm."

"asshole."

"your asshole."

jisung blinked.

minho blinked back, then slowly smirked. "too soon?"

jisung let out a noise that was somewhere between a snort and a half-suppressed scream, and shoved lightly at minho's shoulder. "god. you can't just say stuff like that!"

minho leaned back, laughing, not even pretending to be sorry. "why not? you kissed me first."

"barely!" jisung shot back, though his voice was still soft around the edges, full of light. "and you said it first."

"said what?"

jisung gave him a look. "you know what."

minho tilted his head with a feigned innocence. "that I care about you?"

and just like that, the air shifted again.

jisung's breath caught in his throat. His smile faltered - not because it was gone, but because it had grown too fragile, too full. like it couldn't hold the weight of the feeling behind it. his eyes shimmered in the light of the fading sunset, and he stared at minho like he was afraid to blink and lose him.

"I meant it, by the way," minho said softly. "I didn't say it because I thought you needed to hear it. I said it because it's the truth. I care about you, han jisung."

jisung's hands curled into minho's jacket again, tighter this time, his head ducking like he could hide from the intensity of it - but he didn't pull away.

instead, he whispered, "I don't know how to be someone who's cared like that."

minho reached for him - gentle but unwavering - and lifted his chin until their eyes met again.

"that's okay," he said. "we'll figure it out. together."

jisung's throat bobbed as he swallowed, blinking too fast to keep the tears away, even though he was smiling.

minho kissed him again.

he couldn't help it.

this time it was slower still, almost reverent. he kissed him like he was writing his answer directly onto jisung's lips. like every part of him was speaking, not just his mouth. his hands cradled jisung's face, thumbs stroking over his cheeks, grounding him. anchoring him.

and jisung melted into it, his entire body curling closer, sighing against minho's mouth like he was letting go of every last fear he'd carried alone.

when they pulled apart again, the sky had darkened into deep purples and blues. campus lights were flickering on in the distance, and the quiet hum of night was settling over the world. but here, at the picnic table tucked behind the building, it felt like they were the only ones who existed.

minho looked down at jisung's hand in his, their fingers still locked, and then up at him again. "you should know," he said, "I'm not planning on letting you go."

jisung swallowed, eyes wide and glistening. "okay," he whispered. "I'm not planning on running anymore."

minho smiled. it was softer than any smile he'd ever worn - gentle and real and full of something that felt a lot like peace.

"then I guess we're stuck with each other."

jisung let out a breath of a laugh. "yeah. I guess we are."

minho leaned in once more and brushed a kiss to his temple, holding him close again as the night wrapped itself around them like a blanket.

neither of them spoke after that - not for a while.

there were no more confessions to make. no more secrets to hide. just two boys sitting under a twilight sky, hearts wide open, finally letting themselves feel what they'd been too afraid to say.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

they stayed like that for a long while, tucked against each other in the hush of the deepening night, until the wind picked up just enough to make jisung shiver. it was subtle - barely a twitch - but minho felt it. he always noticed things about jisung, even the ones jisung tried to hide.

minho shifted, pulling back just slightly so he could look at him again. "it's getting cold," he murmured, voice thick with the kind of softness that made jisung's chest ache in a way that wasn't painful at all. "let me walk you home."

jisung blinked, a little surprised. "you're not gonna force me onto that death trap of yours?" he teased, nodding toward where minho's motorcycle sat, parked and glinting under the streetlight in the distance.

minho chuckled, already standing and offering a hand to help jisung up. "nah. not tonight. figured you might not be ready to hold onto me like that yet."

jisung's ears turned a soft pink as he took minho's hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet. "maybe I'd surprise you."

"you already have," minho said without missing a beat, and it made jisung stumble a little - not on his feet, but in his heart.

they started walking, steps in sync, their joined hands swinging gently between them. the path wound through campus first, quiet and bathed in the silver of low-hanging lamps, before opening into the neighborhood streets, where trees lined the sidewalk and porch lights glowed from cozy homes. the quiet felt safe now, not awkward or heavy, just... calm. comfortable.

jisung was still holding minho's hand, and he hadn't let go once.

"y'know," minho said after a few blocks, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, "I used to read those notes over and over. like, obsessively. I'd get to class early just to sit and read them. try to figure out who it was."

jisung laughed, almost sheepishly. "you never guessed?"

"I had theories. none of them were as good as the truth."

jisung's fingers squeezed his lightly. "I thought you were out of reach. like... untouchable."

minho snorted. "me?"

"you're lee minho. you walk like you own every hallway. you glare at people and they move. it's terrifying."

"only a little terrifying."

"you've got the face of a movie villain and the heart of a studio ghibli protagonist. it's confusing."

minho tilted his head, pretending to consider. "I'll take that as a compliment."

they passed a small park, the swings creaking in the distance with the breeze. jisung slowed down for a moment, then kept walking. minho noticed the way his expression shifted - something quieter, more reflective.

"sometimes I used to come out here after dark," jisung said softly, "when I was feeling too much. I'd sit on those swings and just... try to be okay."

minho didn't say anything for a second. just took a deep breath and turned slightly to face him as they walked.

"you don't have to go there alone anymore."

jisung looked up at him, wide-eyed, the vulnerability right there under the surface.

"I mean it," minho continued. "anytime it gets too heavy, you call me. even if it's the middle of the night. even if you don't have the words. you call me, and I'll come find you."

something in jisung cracked open. not in a breaking way - more like a door finally, finally unlocking.

"okay," he whispered, and this time it wasn't hesitant. it wasn't uncertain.

it was a promise.

they reached his apartment building too soon.

the light on the entrance was on, but the street was otherwise quiet. jisung turned to face minho at the bottom of the steps, not letting go of his hand yet.

"I kind of don't want to go inside."

minho smiled, brushing his thumb gently across jisung's knuckles. "then don't. not yet."

they stood there, the cool night air curling around them, and minho gently pulled jisung closer. one hand on the small of his back, the other still holding his, he leaned in just enough to whisper, "I had noticed you, too, you know. before I even found out it was you writing the notes."

jisung's eyes widened, and his breath hitched.

"you did not."

"I did. I just didn't realize it until you started writing things I didn't even know I wanted someone to say."

"you're such a liar."

"I'm really not." minho's grin widened, but there was nothing teasing in his eyes - only something tender, something real. "I used to watch you talk to jeongin and felix and get irrationally annoyed because you smiled at them more than you smiled at me."

jisung's face turned crimson.

"you did not get jealous-"

"I absolutely did. you were stupidly charming and loud and smart and infuriating. I was doomed from the start."

jisung was laughing now, covering his face with their still-linked hands, and minho leaned in and kissed his cheek so gently it almost didn't feel real.

"I'm yours now," minho said softly. "and I'm not going anywhere."

jisung dropped his hand to look at him again, and his eyes were shining.

"you better not."

"I promise."

they stood there until their smiles were too wide, hearts too full, too big.

"goodnight," jisung said, reluctant but smiling.

"goodnight, sungie."

jisung stepped up onto the porch and paused, trying to ignore the funny thing his heart did at the nickname. he turned, grinning one last time.

"don't forget-I kissed you first."

minho laughed, eyes sparkling under the streetlamp. "I'll never forget."

then jisung slipped inside, and minho stood there for a few more seconds, hands tucked into his jacket, heart so full it felt like it might break from how much it held.

he turned and started the walk back to the university to get his bike, already counting down the hours until he could see him again.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the streets were quiet as minho walked back toward campus, his hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket, but his heart anything but still. it beat with something unfamiliar - something warm and bright and terrifying in the best possible way. the world felt lighter, like someone had taken the weight off his chest without him noticing. like he could finally breathe.

the night breeze ruffled his hair, brushing past his skin like it knew the shape of his smile. he hadn't even realized he was smiling until he passed a storefront window and caught a glimpse of his reflection - lips curved up, eyes soft, shoulders relaxed.

he looked... happy.

and he was. god, he was.

jisung's voice still echoed in his ears, every word soaked in vulnerability and bravery. "I'm not planning on running anymore." that sentence had split minho wide open. he couldn't stop replaying it. the look in jisung's eyes. the way his fingers clung to minho's jacket like he was anchoring himself. the softness of his laugh when he said "you're such a liar," like he finally, finally felt safe.

minho reached his motorcycle and stood beside it for a long moment, staring at it in the silver moonlight.

he could've offered jisung a ride home. he wanted to - he'd imagined it so many times before. jisung behind him, arms around his waist, laughter lost in the wind as they sped through the streets. but tonight hadn't been about the fantasy. It had been about something real. something slow. something earned.

so he didn't regret walking him home. not even a little.

minho leaned against the motorcycle, the engine cold and silent beneath his fingers as he traced lazy patterns across the smooth metal. his thoughts wandered, back to the sound of jisung's laugh, the weight of his hands, the warmth of his lips. the way he'd looked at him- like minho wasn't just some unreachable crush, but someone worth trusting, someone worth staying for.

he exhaled, long and slow, watching the mist of his breath curl in the night air.

the city around him was so still. just the occasional rustle of trees, the distant hum of a car passing a few blocks away, and the quiet buzz of street lamps flickering overhead. but inside minho, there was movement. a quiet storm of something new, something that felt a little like wonder and a lot like hope.

he swung a leg over the bike but didn't start it. not yet.

instead, he sat there, elbows resting on the handles, and just... thought.

it was strange, how everything could change in a single evening. how minutes could hold so much weight. how someone you'd looked at a hundred times could become brand new when they finally looked back at you the same way.

jisung.

minho let the name settle on his tongue, even if he didn't say it out loud. let himself sit with it - how it felt now, how it tasted when wrapped in affection instead of longing.

he remembered every one of those damn notes. each one tucked quietly into his locker, no signature, just words that always somehow met him where he was. words that had seen through the cracks in his walls long before anyone else even noticed they were there.

at first, he'd been confused. then curious. then... obsessed. he'd kept them all, hidden in a box at the back of his closet. he never told anyone.

and when the notes stopped, he'd pretended it didn't matter. pretended he hadn't spent days scanning hallways, watching faces, listening to voices for something, anything, that might match the tenderness of those letters.

he hadn't known it was jisung.

but maybe he had.

maybe part of him always had.

he thought about that moment earlier - standing by the picnic table, the fading sunlight soft around them like the world had decided to hush just for them.

the way jisung's hand had trembled slightly when minho touched it. how he'd looked down, cheeks burning, and still didn't pull away. how he'd asked minho to kiss him again like it was a question and a plea and a confession all in one.

minho smiled to himself, resting his forehead briefly against the bike's handlebars.

he was in deep. and for once, that didn't scare him.

after a few more quiet moments, he finally started the engine. the roar broke the silence around him, but inside, he was still calm. grounded. alive in a way he hadn't been in a long time.

he didn't speed off like he usually did. instead, he rode slow, careful, letting the wind thread through his hair and the lights blur gently around him. he passed places that looked different now - places where jisung had smiled, where they'd stood too close without realizing, where minho had once walked alone.

now, it felt like he was carrying something with him.

someone with him.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the morning sun filtered through the patchy clouds, casting a golden glow over the university courtyard as students moved in slow streams toward the main building. the air was crisp, still holding the tail-end chill of spring, but the warmth of the sunlight promised a good day. jisung wasn't entirely sure if he believed it.

he walked with jeongin and felix, one hand gripping the strap of his backpack, the other fiddling anxiously with the hem of his hoodie sleeve. felix was talking about a new song he'd been obsessed with, something fast-paced and aggressively cheerful, but the words were mostly a blur in jisung's ears.

because he hadn't told them yet.

he hadn't told anyone.

not about last night. not about the kiss- kisses, plural. not about the quiet promise minho had left him with under the stars. not about how the world had tilted just slightly on its axis and realigned with minho's hand in his.

and he didn't know how to tell them.
how do you explain something that doesn't even have a name yet?

"hey guys," his own voice ringed in his head as he chewed on his bottom lip. "so... minho and I are..." his thought couldn't continue. because...

are what?

they weren't dating.
not officially.
minho hadn't said anything like that, and jisung wasn't brave enough to ask.
but they weren't friends either. they couldn't be. not after what happened last night. not after that kiss - soft and slow and certain. not after minho said I care about you, han jisung like he meant it with his entire soul.

jisung's chest tightened.

what were they?

his thoughts were spinning so hard, he almost didn't hear it.

"jisung."

his name. just like that. spoken with the gentlest affection.

his head snapped up instinctively, heart thudding so loud he almost winced.

minho was standing just a few feet away, by his motorcycle, leaning against it with casual ease - but even from here, jisung could feel the gravity of him.

the way he looked like something out of a dream: hair wind-ruffled and falling effortlessly over his forehead, leather jacket unzipped to reveal a plain black t-shirt that somehow made jisung's brain short-circuit. slightly baggy jeans tucked into scuffed black boots. one hand shoved in his pocket, the other lifting slightly in a wave.

he looked like trouble and tenderness wrapped into one beautiful contradiction.

and he had just said jisung's name like it was his.

jisung's breath caught. his eyes widened. his cheeks immediately flushed pink.

and minho was already walking toward him.

slow. certain. like he knew exactly where he belonged.

jisung couldn't move. his feet stayed glued to the pavement while his thoughts scrambled, tangling into knots. minho's voice, his name - it had been too soft. too fond. and now he was here, walking up to jisung like it was the most natural thing in the world.

a sharp gasp snapped him out of his daze.

felix had his hands covering his mouth, wide-eyed in pure, unfiltered disbelief. his gaze bounced between jisung and minho like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

jeongin, beside him, had gone slack-jawed, lips parted, eyebrows practically halfway up his forehead.

jisung blinked at them, confused, panicked. but before he could even try to explain-

minho was right there.

standing in front of him.

close enough to reach out and-

"hi," minho said.

just that. just one word. soft, gentle, and devastating.

jisung felt the breath leave his lungs.

"h-hi," he stammered, voice cracking like glass.

minho's eyes softened. that tiny smile curled on his lips, the one that made jisung feel like he was standing under warm light, like he was something precious.

and then-god-minho reached out and took his hand. just like that.

no hesitation.

his fingers slid between jisung's, warm and familiar, and he tugged him gently forward - only just - so he could lean in and press a kiss to the side of jisung's head.

not rushed. not showy.

just real.

and it felt like everything inside jisung stopped.

his legs turned to jelly. his heart was sprinting laps in his chest. he was going to faint. absolutely, one hundred percent going to pass out and wake up in some nurse's office wondering if he'd hallucinated the whole thing.

he didn't move. couldn't.

he stood frozen, hand in minho's, wide eyes locked on him, his cheeks burning crimson.

from somewhere beside them, felix whispered, "lunch," in a choked voice, grabbing jeongin's arm and dragging him away, barely holding back squeals of excitement. their footsteps faded down the path, punctuated by the occasional giggle and muffled exclamation.

but jisung didn't hear any of it. he only saw minho.

who hadn't stopped looking at him for a second.

"hey," minho said again, quieter now that it was just the two of them.

jisung opened his mouth. closed it. opened it again. "you can't just-" he cut himself off, shaking his head like he could dislodge the heat rising behind his ears. "you did not just walk up and do that."

minho's grin widened. "why not? you kissed me first, remember?"

jisung groaned into his hands, hiding his face, though he didn't pull his hand away from minho's. "stop saying that in public, oh my god-"

minho laughed, tugging his hand slightly to get him to look up. "okay, okay. I'll behave." he paused. "for now."

"you're literally evil."

"yeah," minho said. "but I'm your evil, remember?"

and just like that, jisung was melting all over again.

this man was going to be the death of him.

but as minho leaned in a little closer, still holding his hand, still smiling like he was the luckiest person in the world - jisung realized he didn't mind dying like this. not if it meant waking up to this kind of softness. not if it meant him.

not if it meant them.

whatever they were.

whatever they were becoming.

jisung took a breath that didn't steady him at all. if anything, the air felt thicker, heavier with the weight of everything unspoken between them. but also sweeter.

he peeked at their still-linked hands and then back up at minho, who was watching him like he was something rare. like jisung had just stepped into focus and minho wasn't planning to look away.

"...so," jisung finally said, voice tight, "was that just a 'hey good morning' thing, or are you trying to kill me slowly?"

minho grinned, head tilting slightly, a strand of his hair slipping across his brow. "is it working?"

jisung narrowed his eyes. "I'm suffering."

"guess I'm doing it right."

jisung exhaled a laugh and shook his head, biting back the smile tugging at his lips. he hated how easy minho made it to smile. to feel okay. like all the self-doubt and anxiety didn't stand a chance in front of a single smirk and a soft-spoken "hey."

minho rocked on his heels, then lifted their joined hands slightly and gave jisung's fingers a gentle squeeze. "do you wanna... go somewhere?" he asked, and this time his voice was a little more tentative. "just us. before class."

jisung blinked. "like... where?"

minho shrugged, but there was something hopeful in the way he looked at him. "there's that little bench in the garden behind the east building. no one really goes there in the mornings. we could talk. or sit. or..." he hesitated. "figure out what this is. if you want."

jisung's breath hitched.

because yes. yes, he wanted. he'd wanted since last night. since the moment minho kissed him like he was writing poems with his mouth and tracing promises into his skin. but hearing it now, out loud - figure out what this is - made it real in a way that nothing else had.

he nodded slowly. "yeah. I want."

minho's smile turned soft again. like the sunset the night before - slow and tender and burning around the edges.

they didn't talk much as they walked. just the occasional brush of shoulders, the quiet creak of backpack straps, the soft scuff of boots and sneakers over the stone path. but the silence didn't feel awkward. it felt full. like everything was simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to spill out in the right moment.

the garden was tucked behind a low brick wall, its entrance nearly swallowed by ivy and overgrown honeysuckle. minho guided them through without letting go of jisung's hand, like he'd been here before. maybe he had.

they found the bench in a patch of dappled sunlight, framed by blooming daffodils and curling vines. it smelled like spring. like beginnings.

minho sat first, letting his hand fall gently from jisung's as he leaned back against the old wood slats. "you okay?" he asked quietly, looking up at him.

jisung sat down beside him, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his hoodie. he stared at the flowers for a moment. "I don't know what we are."

"I don't either," minho admitted. "but I know what I want us to be."

that made jisung look up, heart thudding.

minho was watching him closely, something patient and careful in his gaze. "I don't want this to be confusing. or rushed. or something you feel like you have to keep quiet. I know you get in your head, and I know it's scary. but I don't want to hide. not anymore."

jisung's chest ached, but in the good way. the way that felt like growth.

"I was going to tell them, you know," he whispered. "felix and jeongin. before you... showed up like a movie scene."

minho chuckled. "yeah. sorry. I wasn't planning to be dramatic. you were just- there. and I couldn't not."

jisung looked at him, mouth tilting in a soft, shy grin. "you really kissed my head in front of them."

"I really did."

"and held my hand."

"and said hi. very politely."

jisung huffed a laugh. "you're impossible."

"I'm your impossible."

jisung turned toward him, pulling his knees up on the bench, facing minho fully. "okay, then. if we're not hiding... can I call you my... something?"

minho raised a brow. "something?"

"I don't know. we haven't labeled anything yet. but if someone asks, can I at least say, 'he's mine'?"

minho smiled, slow and full. "you better. or I'll start telling people first."

"you would."

"yeah." he leaned in, eyes soft. "because I am. yours."

jisung didn't respond right away. he just leaned in and kissed his cheek - quiet and steady. shyly. like punctuation at the end of a sentence they'd been building toward for months.

and when he pulled back, he whispered, "then I'm yours too."

and it wasn't a question anymore.

they stayed on that bench longer than they probably should've, the garden quiet around them except for the occasional birdcall or the rustle of a breeze through leaves.

jisung's hand had somehow made its way back into minho's, resting between them like it belonged there. every so often, one of them would speak - something quiet, something soft - and the other would answer with a small laugh or a gentle smile, and it was easy in a way that made jisung dizzy. like the hardest part was already over.

eventually, minho checked the time and groaned. "we should go. you've got class."

jisung sighed dramatically and slumped against the back of the bench. "tragic."

"utterly," minho agreed, standing and stretching his arms above his head. his shirt lifted slightly with the movement, just enough to make jisung's thoughts derail for a full five seconds before he wrenched his gaze away and forced himself to stand too.

minho noticed - of course he noticed - and smirked in that way that always made jisung feel like he was being studied and undressed all at once.

"I hate you," jisung muttered under his breath.

"you love me," minho said simply, like it was a fact. like gravity.

and the thing was- he wasn't wrong.

they started walking again, side by side through the winding paths of campus, the early sun casting golden light through the trees. students were beginning to trickle out across the walkways, some heading to classes, some lingering in groups.

jisung caught a few glances in their direction, but no one said anything. minho didn't seem fazed at all.

in fact, minho looked good - annoyingly good. his hair was still tousled perfectly from the wind, and his leather jacket shifted with every step he took like it had been tailored to fit the exact shape of his body. jisung glanced at him more than once, every time thinking the same thing:

this is happening. this is real.

he didn't even realize how close they were to his building until minho slowed to a stop just outside the front entrance.

"well," minho said, rocking back slightly on his heels, "this is your stop."

jisung nodded, clutching the strap of his bag. "yep."

they just... stood there for a second. not awkward, exactly, but full of a kind of lingering tension that jisung didn't quite know how to settle. like they'd spent all morning building this little bubble and now they had to step outside of it.

but minho didn't move.

he stepped in a little closer instead, gaze sweeping over jisung's face, and then leaned down - just enough for his lips to brush jisung's ear.

"my pretty boyfriend," he whispered.

just three words.

just three words-

-and jisung felt his entire system reboot. his lungs stopped working. his brain short-circuited. the heat that exploded across his face had no business being that intense, and minho knew it. he absolutely knew it.

because when jisung turned his head in wide-eyed disbelief, minho was already stepping back, lips tugged into that devastating smirk.

and without another word - without giving jisung the chance to even think of a response - minho turned and walked off, boots crunching lightly over gravel as he headed back the way they came, not once looking back.

jisung was left standing there, face on fire, heart pounding against his ribs like it was trying to escape.

my pretty boyfriend.

he was going to die. he was actually going to collapse and die in the middle of the university courtyard. that would be his legacy. "han jisung, 22, perished via lee minho's casual affection."

he barely managed to stumble into the building, his hands shaking slightly as he opened the classroom door. he nodded vaguely at the professor and made his way to his seat like a ghost, flopping into the chair with a soft, stunned noise.

it took exactly three seconds before felix turned around from the desk in front of him, eyebrow raised.

"what happened?" he asked. "you look like you saw god."

"I might've," jisung mumbled.

"did god have great cheekbones and an annoyingly perfect jawline?"

jisung groaned and covered his face with both hands. "he called me his pretty boyfriend."

felix's jaw dropped. "he what?!"

jisung let his head think against the desk. "he said it. whispered it. right in my ear. and then just- left. like some kind of greek tragedy character. or a hot ghost."

felix was laughing now, not even trying to be subtle about it. "oh my god. you're doomed."

"I know." jisung groaned again, voice muffled by his arms. "how do people function like this? how do people date him? I can't even breathe."

felix reached out and patted his back comfortingly. "well, good luck. you've officially entered the 'minho mode' zone. it only gets more unhinged from here."

jisung didn't reply. he just laid there, red-faced and wrecked, trying to remember how to exist.

outside, somewhere on campus, minho was probably smiling.

and jisung?

jisung was a goner.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

by the time jisung stumbled out of his last class before lunch, he'd already given up on the concept of dignity.

it had been shredded earlier that morning when minho whispered "my pretty boyfriend" like it was a secret just for him - and then walked off without giving jisung a single moment to recover. jisung had spent the entire class period vibrating with emotion, trying not to physically scream into his notebook.

and of course, his last class had been with hyunjin. which meant hyunjin - who always noticed everything - had turned to him halfway through the lecture and whispered, "you okay? you're twitching like you saw a ghost." to which jisung had responded with a flailing hand gesture and a strangled noise that hyunjin didn't press... but definitely didn't forget.

now, outside the building and squinting into the afternoon sun, jisung felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see hyunjin smiling at him, radiant and infuriating as always.

"hey," hyunjin said. "you and your crew want to grab lunch with me and seungmin?"

jisung opened his mouth to say yes, because he was hungry and why not - and then hyunjin added:

"chan, changbin, and minho are coming too."

and just like that, jisung's soul left his body.

minho. minho. the same minho who had called him his pretty boyfriend like it was nothing. the same minho who kissed him like he was made of fragile glass and sunlight. the same minho who jisung was not surviving today, thank you very much.

hyunjin was still waiting, eyebrows raised in question.

"I- uh-yeah," jisung managed to get out. "totally. sure. great."

his voice cracked on the last word. he was going to pass away in a cafeteria.

-

by the time he met up with felix and jeongin at their usual corner of the campus café, he'd already told them everything.

everything.

last night, the kiss on the picnic table. the whispers, the hand-holding, the way minho said "you're everything." he told them how minho walked him to class this morning and whispered those words in his ear, how he'd smirked and left jisung standing there like an overheated motherboard.

felix had screamed. jeongin had just said, "yeah, no, you're definitely going to die."

"I can't go to lunch," jisung said, dramatically flopping onto the bench. "he's going to be there. I'll black out. I'll forget how to chew."

felix took a sip of his smoothie. "you have to go. you're already dating. it's boyfriend lunch."

"we're not dating!" jisung cried.

"you're literally dating," jeongin said, without looking up from his phone.

"he never asked!"

felix rolled his eyes. "he called you his pretty boyfriend, sung. what more do you want? a powerpoint?"

"yes!" jisung wailed. "with footnotes and citations and a title slide!"

but it was too late.

hyunjin appeared with seungmin at his side, waving them all over to a long table near the back patio where, sure enough, minho was already sitting.

already sitting. with a chair beside him that was suspiciously empty.

jisung swallowed hard.

and then minho looked up- and smiled.

it wasn't his usual cocky smirk. it was that rare, gentle one. the one that creased the corners of his eyes. the one that felt like sunlight in the middle of winter.

jisung's legs carried him forward before his brain caught up. he sat down in the empty chair next to minho on sheer autopilot, felix across from him, jeongin sliding in beside felix like they were trying to form a protective wall in case jisung spontaneously combusted.

minho leaned in, not touching, not crowding - but close enough that jisung could feel the heat of his presence.

"hi," minho said, soft enough that it was just for him.

jisung turned his head, breath caught somewhere between his ribs. "hi."

there it was again. that feeling like minho had built a world around them and invited jisung to live in it.

"did you survive class?" minho asked, lips twitching like he already knew the answer.

"barely," jisung muttered.

minho hummed like that pleased him, then reached under the table and slipped his hand over jisung's knee, his thumb brushing slow, grounding circles there. jisung nearly levitated.

meanwhile, across the table, felix was very clearly pretending to be invested in his phone, but his eyes kept flicking up like he was watching the drama of the century unfold.

chan showed up next, plopping down beside hyunjin and immediately launching into some half-finished story. changbin followed, laughing as he cut in to correct chan's details. seungmin sat between them, already looking vaguely annoyed but fond in that soft seungmin kind of way.

everyone was talking. the table was alive with conversation and noise, easy and chaotic.

but jisung couldn't hear a single thing.

because minho's hand was still on his knee, warm and steady, and every time their shoulders brushed, jisung felt like his heart was going to short-circuit.

minho didn't say much during lunch, but every now and then he'd glance sideways at jisung and smile - like he could feel jisung unraveling and wanted him to know he was safe.

and jisung?

jisung smiled back. because somehow, despite the chaos, despite the nerves, despite the way he still couldn't wrap his head around this actually happening - minho made it feel easy.

like this wasn't the beginning of something terrifying.

but the start of something real.

something warm.

something worth staying for.

lunch had never felt like such a minefield before.

jisung sat quietly, wedged between minho and felix, the edge of his tray untouched in front of him. he could hear the soft clatter of utensils, the rise and fall of conversation all around the table, but it all blurred into one muffled hum in his ears - because everyone was staring.

okay, maybe not staring in the most obvious way. but glancing. a lot. flicking looks between him and minho like they were watching a particularly juicy tv show and didn't want to miss a single frame.

and minho? he looked utterly unbothered. relaxed. cool. he sat with one arm draped along the back of jisung's chair, fingers lazily playing with the edge of his sleeve like he had all the time in the world. his expression was calm, unreadable - but the moment jisung's anxious fingers tugged lightly on the leather cuff of minho's jacket, everything shifted.

minho's head turned immediately. his full attention zeroed in on jisung like he was the only one in the room.

"yes, sungie?" he asked, his voice low and warm. gentle.

jisung's chest did something strange - tight and fluttery, like his heart had just tripped over itself.

he leaned in just a little, ducking his head toward minho's shoulder so only he could hear him. "do they..." he started, and already his cheeks were warming, "do they know? a-about us?"

he didn't even have to clarify who they were. it was obvious. the glances. the quiet smirks. the way hyunjin and changbin had both nudged him with their knees under the table when he first sat down.

minho's smile softened, the edges crinkling his eyes, and without hesitation, his hand slid down to find jisung's. their fingers curled together, warm and easy.

"sorry," he whispered back, voice full of something that sounded like affection - and no regret whatsoever. "I couldn't help it. I told them."

jisung's eyes widened slightly. his breath caught, and he glanced down at their joined hands.

"oh," he breathed. and then, swallowing hard, "and what... what did you tell them?"

minho's smile deepened. his thumb brushed slow circles over jisung's knuckles. "that you're my boyfriend," he said. simple. effortless. like it was a fact. like it had always been true and he'd just been waiting to say it out loud.

jisung swore his heart forgot how to beat for a full second. maybe two.

his breath came out sharp. his lips parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing formed. the word boyfriend echoed over and over in his head, loud and impossible to ignore. his eyes fluttered shut for half a second, and when he opened them again, his gaze dropped to their joined hands.

boyfriend.

minho had introduced him as his boyfriend to his friends. just like that.

he didn't even ask. didn't stumble through it. didn't hesitate. he just knew.

and that- that did something to jisung. something deep and quiet and kind of terrifying in the best way. it made him feel rooted. chosen. like a fact.

a slow, shy smile broke across his face, and he gave minho's hand a tiny squeeze before ducking his head, warmth blooming all across his cheeks.

from across the table, seungmin caught his eye. he was biting into a sandwich, but his gaze flicked from their hands to jisung's face and back again. and then - shockingly - he smiled. just the smallest curve of his lips.

"you're red as a tomato," felix whispered beside him, leaning in. his tone was teasing, but his eyes were soft. "you're so in love."

"shut up," jisung muttered, trying and failing to stop the grin spreading across his face.

jeongin nudged him too, voice amused. "you're doomed, hyung. completely done for."

and maybe he was.

but when minho leaned in just a little closer, so close jisung could feel his breath along his cheek, and whispered, "you look really cute when you're flustered, by the way"-well.

yeah. jisung was doomed.

but for the first time, it didn't feel scary.

it felt like coming home.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the morning air was crisp, the kind that hinted at the shift between seasons - cool enough to make jisung wish he'd worn his thicker hoodie, but still gentle enough to feel refreshing.

normally, mornings like these made him feel alive, made him smile without even trying. and lately, it had been even better - because for the past four days, every single morning started with minho.

four days.

they'd only been dating for four days, but it already felt like a lifetime in the best possible way. jisung wouldn't trade this feeling for anything. the way minho waited for him by the campus gates each morning, leaning casually against his motorcycle with the breeze playing in his hair.

the way he always greeted jisung with a soft "good morning" and a smile that somehow made everything around them quieter, gentler. and the way his hand always reached for jisung's - confident, but never forceful. like minho had learned the exact pressure that made jisung feel safe and wanted.

it felt like magic. a quiet kind of magic. real, steady, slow-burning.

but today... something felt off.

jisung knew it before minho even said a word.

the moment he spotted him waiting by the gate, something in his chest tensed - not because minho looked upset. he didn't. he looked the same as always: composed, beautiful, warm. but as jisung walked closer, his eyes caught on minho's hands - just for a second - and his steps faltered.

minho smiled at him like usual, that same soft curve of his lips that jisung had grown completely addicted to. "good morning," he said, voice calm and gentle.

but when he reached out his hand, just like he always did...

jisung stopped.

his eyes dropped to minho's hand.

the knuckles were red. swollen. bruised.

"min..." his voice cracked on the second syllable.

he reached forward without thinking, taking minho's hand carefully between both of his. it was still warm, still familiar, but under his fingertips the skin was rougher than usual. tender. angry. like something violent had unfolded and then tried to heal in silence.

jisung turned minho's hand slightly, taking in every detail of the bruising. then he immediately reached for the other one - and felt a painful twist in his stomach when he found it in the same condition.

both hands. both knuckles.

minho had been in a fight.

"what... what happened?" jisung whispered, voice trembling. "why...?"

minho's smile faltered, just for a second, and then reappeared like a shield. "I'm okay, sungie," he said, soft and steady, like he could convince him with tone alone. "it's nothing."

jisung looked up at him, expression torn.

"it doesn't look like nothing." he said, voice firm. "did it hurt?"

"it's not something I can't handle," minho said with a small shrug, that same infuriating half-smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm used to it by now-"

"I asked did it hurt, minho," jisung said, firmer this time. his voice wasn't loud. it wasn't angry. but it was full. full of worry. full of something that made minho go quiet.

there was a long beat of silence before minho answered, quieter than before.

"a little."

jisung closed his eyes briefly, then muttered a curse under his breath. not even a harsh one - just something exasperated and full of helpless affection. he opened his eyes again, gaze sharp with concern.

"why are you doing this?" he asked, voice still trembling but stronger now. "why are you getting into fights like some teenage boy looking for trouble? you're hurting yourself, minho. this- this is reckless. and immature. and stupid-"

minho's smile broke through, uncontainable, and for some reason, it only made jisung more frustrated.

"what?" he snapped, brow furrowed.

"you're scolding me," minho said, grinning now, clearly entertained.

"of course I'm scolding you! you-"

"I like it," minho said, and it stopped jisung in his tracks.

"you... what?" jisung blinked, his voice caught somewhere between disbelief and a squeak.

minho's grin spread into something smug and amused and dangerous. he shifted his hand in jisung's grip, curling their fingers together, and then used his other hand to tug jisung gently closer by the waist, guiding him a little too easily into his space.

jisung stumbled, hands flying to minho's shoulders to steady himself. their faces were close - too close - and minho's expression had shifted again. not teasing, not smug. soft. intense.

"you look hot when you're scolding me, jisung," he said, voice low.

and jisung's entire brain - no, his entire existence - short-circuited.

his breath hitched, loud and unsteady in the space between them. he could feel the heat blooming under his skin, crawling up his neck, flooding his cheeks. he knew he must've looked ridiculous - wide-eyed, flushed, completely at a loss for words - but minho didn't seem to mind. he looked like he was thriving in the chaos he'd created.

"I-" jisung started, but nothing came out. he tried again. "you‐ I'm serious, minho!"

"I know," minho said, like it was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard. "so am I."

jisung groaned, pressing his forehead against minho's shoulder like it could shield him from the embarrassment soaking through every pore. but his hands didn't let go. he still held onto minho's shoulders like they were the only solid thing in the world.

"don't flirt with me while I'm worried about you," he mumbled against minho's jacket.

"that's when I want to flirt with you the most," minho replied, voice smug but soft.

and jisung was ruined.

absolutely, completely ruined.

jisung let out a sound - half groan, half laugh, muffled into the leather of minho's jacket - and minho just held him there like he wasn't teasing the life out of him, like he wasn't turning jisung's world upside down with a single sentence.

"you can't just say things like that," jisung mumbled, finally pulling back enough to look at him. his hands were still on minho's shoulders, and minho's hand still rested at the small of his back like it belonged there. like it always had.

"why not?" minho tilted his head slightly, a playful gleam in his eyes. "they're true."

jisung hated, hated, how easily his heart melted at that. his chest ached with how full it felt, like he didn't have enough space for all the feelings building inside him.

"you're impossible," he whispered.

"mm," minho hummed, leaning in just a little, nose almost brushing his. "but I'm your impossible, right?"

jisung exhaled shakily, and his hands tightened against minho's jacket before he slowly nodded.

"yeah," he said, voice barely more than a whisper. "you are."

minho's smile softened then, the teasing melting away into something quiet and warm. he pulled jisung in again - not for a kiss this time, just to rest his forehead against his. the world slowed down for a moment, the morning noise fading into the background, like time had carved out a space just for the two of them.

"I'm sorry I made you worry," minho said, gently. "I didn't mean to. it's just... there was this guy- he said something about you. and I shouldn't've let it get to me, but I did. I hit him. twice."

jisung blinked, pulling back slightly, stunned. "wait... someone said something about me?"

minho didn't flinch. "yeah. something gross. disrespectful. and I don't regret hitting him, but I do regret making you feel like this."

jisung stared at him for a long second, then swallowed thickly. his fingers found minho's again, holding them gently between his own. "next time," he said softly, "tell me first. before you go punching anyone."

minho gave a sheepish smile. "deal."

a small silence settled between them again, but this time it was soft, filled with unspoken affection rather than tension.

jisung pressed a light kiss to minho's bruised knuckles, his cheeks pink as he did. "still dumb," he muttered. "but a little less dumb if it was for me."

minho looked at him like he'd just dropped the entire sun in his hands.

"I'm completely gone for you, han jisung," he said quietly.

and jisung... well, he didn't even try to hide his smile.

"good," he replied. "because I've been gone for you from the start."

minho leaned in and kissed him, right there on the sidewalk, with all the gentleness in the world. and when they finally parted, he still kept holding his hand as they walked toward campus together - like letting go wasn't even an option.

it was quiet for a few moments, until jisung looked over at him with a sideways glance.

"you're still grounded, though."

minho laughed, throwing his head back. "you're gonna ground me?"

"you're lucky I'm not calling your mom."

"I don't think she'd mind," minho teased. "she's been wanting me to bring you over for dinner."

jisung froze. "wait... what?"

minho only smirked, tugging him forward by the hand again.

"let's go, sungie. you're already late for class."

and jisung, flustered and pink and somewhere between panicking and glowing, followed - hand in hand, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

jisung's day moved in a blur of notebooks, coffee cups, and half-understood lectures - but through all of it, there was minho.

minho in the morning, whispering "good morning, sungie" like it was just for him.
minho, pressing a kiss to his forehead before walking off to his own class.
minho, whose bruised knuckles jisung couldn't stop thinking about - not because of the violence, but because he'd done it for him.
minho, who'd told his mother about him.
minho, who called him his boyfriend.

and maybe it was stupid, or maybe he was just too far gone, but jisung couldn't stop smiling.

he was supposed to be taking notes. supposed to be. but his pen had long since drifted from the actual lecture to doodles of little cats wearing leather jackets, followed by a lopsided heart with an m inside. very subtle.

it was felix who caught him first. jisung had been staring at his desk, chin in his hand, this dumb little grin stuck to his face like it had been tattooed there.

"you're doing it again," felix whispered beside him, poking him with the end of his pencil.

jisung blinked. "doing what?"

"the smile," jeongin added from his other side, smirking as he leaned closer. "that smile that says 'my boyfriend just called me pretty and I'm never recovering.'"

jisung nearly choked, his hand flailing up to cover his face. "I- shut up-how did you-?"

felix giggled, pleased. "you look in love."

"I'm not-" jisung tried to argue, but then paused. his lips twitched, tugging back up. "okay, maybe a little."

jeongin grinned like a proud parent. "you've got it bad."

"I do," jisung groaned, dropping his head onto the desk. "god, I do. I'm so screwed."

felix leaned down, resting his cheek against jisung's shoulder. "no, you're not. you're in love with a hot guy who adores you. that's not screwed. that's a win."

that had jisung sitting back up slowly, heart warm and full in his chest.

yeah. maybe they were right.
maybe it was a win.

and he wanted minho to know that.
he wanted him to know everything.
no more slipping notes into lockers. no more hiding how he felt in half-written lyrics or half-spoken words.

this time, he was going to give minho the note himself.

so between classes, tucked away in the library with jeongin and felix whispering across the table about weekend plans, jisung opened his notebook and turned to a blank page. he chewed the inside of his cheek, staring down at the paper for a long moment before writing:

-

> minho,

I know I told you I'm not good at this.
and I'm really not. I'm still figuring it out. but every day with you makes it a little easier. a little better. you make things feel... safe. real. like I don't have to run anymore.
I've never been someone people stay for. but you did. you do.
even when I'm nervous.
even when I'm scared.
even when I'm not sure how to say the things in my heart.

so this is me trying.
trying to say: I like you so much it makes my chest ache.
trying to say: thank you for not letting me go.
trying to say: I'm not going anywhere either.

please take care of your hands.
you kind of need them to hold mine.

-jisung

p.s. you're hot when you smirk, but annoying when you know it.

-

he folded the paper carefully and stared at it for a moment before tucking it into his hoodie pocket. his fingers brushed over it a few times while they walked to their next class, like he was reminding himself it was there. waiting.

he was going to give it to minho after school.

face to face. hands trembling or not.

and this time, he wasn't going to hide.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

jisung was screwed.

he knew it the second he stepped outside and saw minho standing just beyond the university gates, leaned casually against the brick wall, one foot crossed over the other. his black jacket fluttered slightly in the breeze, and the setting sun caught in his hair, giving him an almost golden glow that was completely unfair to the rest of humanity.

but that wasn't even the worst part.

no, the worst part was the rose minho was holding - just one, long-stemmed, deep red, cradled gently in his fingers like it was something delicate and precious. like how he held jisung's hand.

jisung stopped walking mid-step.

minho looked up at that exact moment and smiled.

and not the playful smirk that usually made jisung's stomach twist (though that came a second later). no- this smile was soft, full, a little crooked with affection. it hit jisung square in the chest and nearly knocked the air out of his lungs.

he brought me a flower, jisung thought. I'm done for. I'm so done for.

felix gave him a shove from behind, barely containing his squeal. "go," he whispered. "you're gonna combust."

"I already am," jisung hissed, face red as a cherry, but his feet started moving anyway.

minho straightened as jisung approached, holding the rose up with a cheeky tilt of his head. "hi, pretty," he said, voice low and warm. "you look like you had a long day."

jisung blinked at him. "you brought me a rose."

minho grinned. "I did."

"like... just one. dramatically. at sunset."

"guilty."

"you're so annoying," jisung muttered, but his fingers were already reaching for the flower, cradling it gently in both hands like it was sacred. his heart was pounding in his chest.

minho reached up and brushed Jisung's hair back from his forehead with the lightest touch. "you still like me, though."

"barely," jisung whispered, lips twitching. then he glanced around, tugged the folded note from his hoodie pocket, and held it out with both hands. "this is for you."

minho blinked. "you wrote me another note?"

jisung's face went red instantly. "shut up and take it."

minho took it slowly, reverently, like it was something valuable. he opened it while jisung stood there awkwardly, rose still in his hand, trying not to have a meltdown.

as minho read, his face shifted.

the smirk faded first, replaced by something softer. his eyes moved quickly but carefully, reading every word like it was meant just for him - which it was. and then the furrow between his brows appeared, the same one that always did when something tugged too hard at his heart.

when he reached the end, he looked up.

jisung swallowed. "you're not allowed to laugh at me."

minho didn't laugh. he stepped forward, sliding the note carefully into the inside pocket of his jacket, like it belonged close to his heart.

"I think I'm in love with you."

jisung froze. his grip tightened on the rose.

"what?"

minho cupped the back of his neck and leaned in, their foreheads nearly brushing. "I mean it. you say you're not good at this, but jisung- you're already everything."

jisung blinked hard, lips parted. "that's not fair."

minho smiled again. "why?"

"because you say things like that and then I forget how to breathe."

"that's okay," minho murmured. "I'll remind you."

and then he kissed him- right there, in front of the campus, in the orange glow of sunset, with students walking by and not a care in the world. it wasn't long or heated or rushed. it was just... them. quiet, steady, full.

when they pulled apart, minho touched the edge of the rose still in jisung's hand.

"you keep that," he said. "I'll keep the note."

jisung nodded, speechless.

and then minho smirked, just a little.

"also, you definitely look hot when you curse."

jisung groaned and buried his face in minho's chest. "where did this come from now? you're the worst."

minho wrapped his arms around him and kissed the top of his head.

"and yet you're in love with me."

"god help me," jisung mumbled into his jacket.

minho laughed - and that sound alone was enough to carry jisung through the rest of the week.

and maybe, maybe through forever.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

two weeks.

two weeks of dating lee minho, and somehow jisung still hadn't gotten used to it.

he hadn't gotten used to how minho always looked at him like he was something to be held gently. or how his voice softened just for him. or how, despite his sharp exterior and relentless sarcasm, minho was actually one of the most quietly thoughtful people jisung had ever met.

and now, walking down the hallway with their shoulders brushing, jisung thought again - he really was in heaven.

they weren't talking, but they didn't need to. the silence between them wasn't awkward or empty; it was full. comfortable. like a shared secret. like the kind of silence you only shared when you knew the other person understood exactly what you were feeling without having to say it.

jisung had his hands tucked in the front pocket of his hoodie, and minho's arms were crossed loosely, but close. always close.

they were just passing a cluster of lockers when jisung heard it.

"god, there goes lee minho again."

"does he ever smile? or is being an asshole just part of his aesthetic?"

"bet he thinks he's better than everyone. arrogant prick."

"rude. heartless. I don't get how anyone even talks to him."

the words weren't loud, but they weren't subtle either. the group didn't even bother to whisper. jisung's steps faltered for half a second.

he turned his head to look at minho - just a quick glance.

minho's expression didn't change. his gaze stayed locked straight ahead, shoulders squared, jaw tight. like he hadn't heard a thing. like he didn't care.

but jisung knew him now. he knew how minho's eyes went just a little darker when he was trying not to react. knew the faint crease between his brows that only appeared when he was holding something in. and he saw it - he saw all of it, tucked behind minho's silence.

without thinking, jisung reached out and slipped his hand into minho's.

not all the way - not with fingers laced like they did when they were walking through the park or sitting on the curb after coffee. just his hand, resting against minho's palm, thumb brushing lightly across minho's bruised knuckles. still healing.

and minho's heart did something stupid in his chest.

it stumbled, fluttered, twisted in that ridiculous way it only ever did when jisung looked at him like he meant something. and right now, even though jisung wasn't looking at him at all - wasn't saying anything - he was still telling him so much.

minho didn't say anything either. he just glanced down at their hands, then back at jisung, whose gaze stayed forward, calm and quiet. steady. like he was saying, I'm here. you're not alone. and you're not what they say.

minho's fingers curled slightly around jisung's hand, anchoring himself.

then he leaned in, just enough to brush a soft, warm kiss against the side of jisung's head. barely a touch. but jisung reacted like he'd been struck by lightning.

his head turned fast, eyes wide, blinking up at Minho like he hadn't expected it - even though he should've. even though minho had kissed him a dozen times before. this one just... felt different.

minho met his gaze, a small, knowing smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.

jisung opened his mouth like he was about to say something - but then he caught the look in minho's eyes. and it stopped him cold.

because it wasn't smugness or mischief. it was something tender. something warm and raw and unguarded.

minho didn't need to say thank you out loud. his expression said it all.

jisung squeezed his hand.

they kept walking, still not speaking. but now, minho's fingers were interlaced with jisung's. fully. tightly.

and for the first time in a long time, the voices behind him didn't matter. not even a little.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

by the time lunch came around, jisung's mind was racing.

he sat at their usual table, half-listening to felix talk about a video he was editing, while jeongin tried to convince hyunjin that yes, it was possible to live off instant ramen and microwaved dumplings alone. jisung nodded occasionally, eyes fixed on the lid of his lunchbox, fingers idly tracing the edge.

he wasn't thinking about ramen. or dumplings. or felix's new editing style.

he was thinking about minho.

more specifically, about the note he'd written that morning during first period, when his heart was still full from that quiet moment in the hallway. when minho had kissed the side of his head like jisung had given him air to breathe. when minho had looked at him like he was the only real thing in the world.

the note had been simple.

> you're not what they say. you matter.

that was it.

no name. no signature. no hearts or smiley faces.

but it didn't need any of that.

because jisung knew minho would recognize his handwriting. he would recognize the rhythm of the words, the way the lines curved slightly to the right, the lowercase y that always looked too soft. he would know.

and he wanted him to.

he'd slipped the note into minho's locker during passing period. it had taken five seconds, but it felt like the boldest thing he'd ever done. his fingers had trembled as he spilled it between the gap of the locker, and his heart had been loud in his chest the rest of the day.

he didn't see minho again until the final class of the afternoon - an elective they didn't share but ended in the same hallway. jisung was walking slowly, stalling just a little, half-hoping minho would be there waiting.

and he was.

leaning against the wall by the drinking fountain, arms folded, one boot crossed lazily over the other. like he'd been waiting forever and didn't mind one bit.

jisung's breath caught. he tried not to smile too hard as he approached.

"you're late," minho said, lips quirking.

"you're early," jisung replied, though it came out more breathless than he'd intended.

minho pushed off the wall and stepped closer. close enough that jisung had to tilt his head back slightly to meet his eyes.

"locker notes again?" minho asked, and his voice was low and warm and teasing - but also soft around the edges.

jisung flushed, glancing down at their feet. "you saw it, huh?"

"of course I saw it." minho reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper - carefully unfolded. he held it up between two fingers. "didn't even sign it this time."

"I figured you'd know it was from me," jisung murmured.

minho looked at him for a long second, then folded the note again and tucked it back into his pocket. "I did."

there was a pause. a beat that stretched between them like something delicate. jisung's fingers itched to do something - grab minho's hand, tug him closer, bury his face in his chest - but he didn't move.

minho did.

he leaned in, just slightly, until jisung could see the tiny flecks of brown in his eyes. "you shouldn't have to write me notes like that," he said quietly. "but I'm really, really glad you did."

jisung blinked. "why not?"

"because I shouldn't need the reminder. I should just know. but..." minho smiled, the smallest smile, and his voice dropped even softer. "sometimes I forget. and you- well. you make it hard to forget."

jisung's throat tightened.

"minho," he whispered.

"hmm?"

"I meant it. every word."

"I know," minho replied. "that's what makes it hit so hard."

and then - like it was the easiest thing in the world - minho stepped forward, took jisung's hand in his, and kissed his forehead. right there in the middle of the hallway.

people might have seen.

jisung didn't care.

he leaned into it, eyes fluttering shut for a heartbeat, his heart doing cartwheels in his chest.

when minho pulled back, he didn't say anything else. he just smiled, tugged gently on jisung's hand, and started walking. like the world hadn't just shifted slightly under their feet.

jisung followed, his hand still warm, his chest too full.

and deep in minho's jacket pocket, the note remained - creases and all. carefully kept. a small reminder of soft truths in jisung's handwriting.

> you're not what they say. you matter.

minho would never throw it away.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the morning sun filtered through the half-closed blinds of minho's bedroom, casting soft golden lines across his desk and the messy pile of clothes on the chair beside it. he was already up, fully dressed and sitting on the edge of his bed, slowly tying the laces of his boots.

his hands moved with practiced ease, but his thoughts were far from focused.

the note was still in the inside pocket of his jacket.

he hadn't taken it out since yesterday - hadn't needed to. he'd read it enough times in the span of a few hours that he could recite it word for word. just eight words, short and sweet. but somehow, it had made something shift inside of him. something he hadn't known was waiting to shift.

> you're not what they say. you matter.

jisung had no idea what that meant to him. not really. not the way minho had needed to hear those words at the exact moment he had. he wasn't unfamiliar with bruises - either the kind on his skin or the kind deeper down, the ones that settled in his chest like ghosts and whispered things he pretended not to hear.

he didn't care what people said, not outwardly. he didn't need to. he had long since learned how to walk like it didn't matter, talk like it rolled right off of him. rude. cold. heartless. arrogant. the words bounced off, never stuck - for the most part.

but yesterday... something about hearing it while jisung was next to him, holding his hand so gently, thumb brushing over healing skin, had made the weight of those words feel heavier.

and then later... the note.

that had undone him. quietly, completely.

minho shrugged on his jacket, fingers brushing against the folded paper in the inner pocket. he closed his eyes for a second, just feeling it there, and then grabbed his keys and headed out.

-

jisung was already waiting near the front gate by the time minho arrived.

the sight of him hit minho like it always did - soft sweater layered under his jacket, hair slightly tousled, fingers fidgeting with the strap of his bag like he didn't know what to do with himself while waiting.

minho's lips pulled into a smile before he could stop it. it was ridiculous, how fast it happened now. one glimpse of jisung, and the world felt less cruel.

jisung looked up and grinned when he saw him, and just like that - minho's whole day settled.

"morning, min," jisung said, voice light and warm.

minho stepped closer, brushed his knuckles against jisung's in greeting, and murmured, "morning, baby."

jisung's ears turned pink. as always.

minho smirked.

they started walking, their pace slow and in sync, the way it had become over the past two weeks. they didn't always talk right away. sometimes they just walked like this, letting the quiet fill the space between them.

minho liked it. needed it, even. jisung never pushed. never pried. he just... stayed.

and lately, that had become minho's favourite part of the day.

as they turned the corner toward the main building, minho glanced at jisung from the corner of his eye. he looked calm, but there was a tension in his shoulders minho had come to recognize. a restlessness. like something was on his mind.

"what's up?" minho asked softly.

jisung blinked, then gave him a sheepish smile. "nothing. I just... I have math first period. you know how that goes."

minho chuckled under his breath. "tragic."

jisung elbowed him gently, and for a second, the weight in minho's chest lifted.

they parted ways at the staircase, but not before minho pressed a soft kiss to jisung's temple - less showy than yesterday, but somehow more intimate.

"I'll see you at lunch?" he asked.

jisung nodded. "yeah. don't be late."

minho was already watching him walk away when he reached into his jacket and touched the note again. It was still there, warm from his body heat.

he didn't read it. didn't need to.

but he thought about it all through his first class anyway.

-

later, during a lull between periods, minho pulled the note out again. he was alone in the music room, sprawled out on the worn couch in the corner, fingers tapping idly on his thigh.

he stared at the words, soft and slightly smudged now from being folded and refolded so many times.

> you're not what they say. you matter.

he wondered if jisung knew just how much those seven words had changed something in him. not because he didn't already believe in himself - not exactly.

but because... it felt different coming from someone who looked at him like that. someone who touched him like he was something worth being careful with. someone who didn't flinch at the bruises - who held his hand and didn't ask him to explain anything he wasn't ready to.

minho smiled to himself, tucking the note back into his pocket like a secret.

he'd never tell jisung how long he planned to keep it. he didn't need to. he'd just keep showing him, day by day, that those words had rooted themselves somewhere deep inside him - and they weren't going anywhere.

just like minho.

because jisung mattered, too.

and minho was going to make damn sure he never forgot it.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the cafeteria had been loud. too loud. minho could barely hear himself think over the chatter, the scraping of chairs, the buzz of midday energy. he'd been halfway to grabbing a bottle of water when his phone buzzed in his back pocket.

it was chan.

> [chan]: courtyard for lunch today. everyone's heading out.

minho raised a brow, then typed only one reply.

> [minho]: is jisung gonna be there?

the response came almost instantly.

> [chan]: yeah, of course.

minho didn't reply. didn't need to. he just locked his phone, shoved it into the pocket of his jacket, and pivoted toward the exit like a man with a mission.

his boots echoed through the hallway, fast and steady, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, the worn leather brushing his knuckles. his heart, annoyingly, had picked up speed the moment he read jisung's name, even if he wrote it himself.

it happened every time. it didn't matter how many days had passed - two weeks, two months or two years - he'd probably always react like this.

it was ridiculous. and completely out of his control.

when he pushed through the doors to the courtyard, the first thing that hit him was the sun. the second was the crowd.

there were people everywhere. lounging on the grass, perched on benches, seated along the low stone walls. it looked like half the university had decided to bask in the rare warmth of a spring afternoon.

but minho didn't notice most of them.

because his eyes had already found jisung.

he stood near the center of the open space, surrounded by their usual crowd - chan, changbin, hyunjin, felix, seungmin, and jeongin. everyone was talking over each other in bursts of conversation, loud and chaotic and familiar.

jisung stood a little off-center, arms crossed tightly over his chest, but his smile was bright as he spoke to jeongin and seungmin, his expression animated, eyes glinting with amusement at something they said.

but minho noticed everything.

he noticed how jisung's shoulders were tucked in, how his hands rubbed absently at his upper arms like he was cold. how he was trying not to show it.

minho didn't hesitate.

he walked straight toward them, weaving through the crowd with easy confidence, not acknowledging the stares he was beginning to feel on him. people noticed minho when he walked into a room - or an open courtyard. he was used to that. he just didn't usually care.

until now.

he didn't slow down until he reached them - until he reached jisung.

without a word, minho shrugged off his leather jacket, the one that always hung perfectly off his shoulders, the one that made people whisper things like arrogant, cold, untouchable - and draped it around jisung's smaller frame.

jisung blinked, surprised, caught completely off-guard. "minho-"

but minho was already taking a step back, eyes running over him slowly, taking in how the jacket swallowed jisung whole, how the sleeves hung a little past his hands, how the collar curved around his neck like it belonged there.

then, with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, minho leaned forward and kissed him.

right there.

in the middle of the courtyard. on the middle of the crowd. in the middle of half the damn university.

he cupped jisung's face gently, tilted his head just enough, and kissed him like there wasn't anyone else around. like it was just them. like no one else mattered.

and for jisung - for those few, breath-stealing seconds - it really did feel like no one else existed.

everything else melted away. the warm jacket around his shoulders, the heat of minho's hand on his cheek, the press of soft lips against his. jisung's hands fluttered uselessly in the space between them before they gripped the front of minho's shirt, holding on like he needed the grounding.

when minho finally pulled back, it was slow, deliberate. his eyes opened lazily, locking with jisung's dazed ones, and the smirk he wore deepened.

but jisung... he only became aware of the world again when he heard the whistles.

and the clapping.

and the laughter.

his eyes widened. because oh god, there were so many people watching. all their friends. random students. a group from the art department. some guy with a juice box.

minho had just kissed him in front of all of them.

his face turned a violent shade of red, and he immediately ducked forward, hiding his burning cheeks in the crook of minho's neck. "I hate you," he mumbled into the warmth of minho's skin, voice muffled and breathless.

minho chuckled - actually chuckled - and wrapped his arms tightly around jisung's waist, pulling him close.

"like you could ever," he whispered, teasing and gentle, and if jisung wasn't already hiding his face, he might've combusted on the spot.

felix, from somewhere behind them: "OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO CUTE I'M GONNA CRY."

jeongin: "finally. I thought they were just going to keep flirting in secret for the rest of the semester."

changbin, loudly: "I feel single. thanks."

seungmin: "you are single."

hyunjin, fanning himself: "okay but the energy of that entrance? iconic."

chan just shook his head with a fond grin, muttering something about "teenagers" under his breath.

jisung groaned and tightened his grip on minho's shirt, still very much buried against him. "they're never going to let us live this down."

minho's laugh was quiet, pressed into the top of jisung's hair. "good. let them remember who you belong to."

and jisung?

he melted.

again.

the rest of lunch felt like something out of a cheesy teen drama - but jisung was too dazed, too warm in minho's jacket, too full of butterflies to care.

after the kiss (which he was never going to emotionally recover from, thank you very much), they finally joined the others at the patch of grass they'd claimed in the courtyard. the sunlight had softened a little, casting everything in a golden hue, and the breeze smelled like early spring and new beginnings.

minho didn't leave jisung's side.

he didn't make a big deal out of anything - he just sat close enough that their thighs touched and let jisung keep his jacket on.

every now and then, his pinky brushed jisung's. sometimes he bumped their shoulders together just to get a little smile out of him.

once, when jeongin made a dumb joke about jisung being "minho's tiny feral boyfriend," minho leaned over and kissed the top of jisung's head again like it was just natural. like it was muscle memory now.

jisung's heart hadn't known peace since 12:03 p.m.

at one point, he caught minho doodling something on a napkin from the café stand nearby - his tongue poking out just slightly, brows furrowed in concentration.

jisung tried not to look directly at him because he could feel another blush coming and honestly, how many times could someone turn bright red in one lunch period before it became a medical concern?

"you good?" felix asked under his breath, nudging jisung's knee with his own.

"no," jisung whispered, voice flat. "I'm dating a menace."

felix glanced at minho, who had just leaned back on his elbows and was squinting at the sky like a model from a luxury perfume ad. then he looked at jisung again and grinned. "yeah," he said, "but he's your menace."

jisung groaned into his hands.

by the time the lunch bell rang and students started filing back toward class, minho was still by jisung's side.

"you have lab next, right?" he asked as they walked slowly toward the science wing, trailing behind the others.

"yeah," jisung mumbled, still clutching the edges of minho's jacket around himself.

minho hummed. "you gonna blow something up again?"

"that was one time, and it wasn't my fault," jisung hissed, scandalized.

minho laughed. "right. I'm sure the fire was accidental."

jisung elbowed him in the side but didn't stop smiling. when they reached the end of the hall near jisung's class, he slowed to a stop. so did minho. the hallway had mostly cleared, just a few stragglers rushing to their rooms. jisung turned to face him, hands tucked in the sleeves of the jacket that still smelled like minho.

"I uh-" he fidgeted, biting his lower lip. "I wanted to give you something."

minho tilted his head. "yeah?"

jisung nodded and pulled a slightly crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. he looked everywhere but minho's face as he carefully placed it into minho's hand.

"it's not much," he said quickly. "I just- I wanted to say it. you know. even if it's just on paper."

minho opened it slowly. a single sentence in jisung's neat handwriting stared up at him:

> I'm being myself with you. you can be yourself with me too.

minho's heart twisted.

it shouldn't have made him feel so much. it was just a note. but it was from jisung. it was for him. and it wasn't about jokes or kisses or teasing. it was about seeing him. really seeing him.

when he looked up, jisung was watching him carefully, like he wasn't sure how minho would react.

so minho didn't say anything.

he just stepped forward, cupped the side of jisung's face gently, and kissed him. not teasing this time. not performative. just soft. slow. full of the kind of warmth that settled into your chest and refused to leave.

when he pulled away, their foreheads bumped together.

"you really know how to kill a guy, don't you?" minho whispered.

jisung smiled, shy and small. "only a little."

minho folded the note and tucked it into his wallet like it was something precious.

because it was.

"go to class, sungie," he murmured, voice low.

jisung hesitated for a second longer, then nodded and backed toward the classroom door. but right before slipping inside, he looked back and said, "don't forget your jacket."

minho shook his head, smirking. "keep it."

and jisung?

yeah. he might've walked into class fifteen seconds late and flustered and glowing like the sun was following him - but he was also wearing minho's jacket and smiling like the luckiest boy on earth.

-

by the time their last class of the day rolled around, jisung's energy was a peculiar mix of exhaustion and complete emotional elation. his heart had been doing somersaults since noon, and now it was curled up somewhere in his chest, content and full, like a cat in a sunbeam.

the soft scent of minho still clung to the inside of the leather jacket wrapped around his shoulders - warm spice, clean soap, something a little woodsy and very distinctly him.

jisung had no intention of taking it off.

"seriously?" felix whispered, nudging his elbow as they settled into their seats near the back of the room. "you're not gonna take off this jacket, will you?"

jisung didn't even flinch. "no."

just that. one syllable. firm. peaceful. like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

he shifted in his seat and let the collar of the jacket curl up against his cheek. the leather was worn-in and soft from use, and every time he moved, it reminded him of how minho had shrugged it off without hesitation earlier, how he hadn't even said a word - just draped it around jisung's shoulders like it belonged there. like he belonged there.

felix stared at him for a long second, lips pressed together in mock frustration before he let out a deep, dramatic sigh and leaned back in his seat. "you're so far gone it's not even funny."

"I'm perfectly fine," jisung said, though the smile on his face gave him away completely.

felix rolled his eyes. "you haven't stopped smiling since lunch."

"that's not true," jisung mumbled, looking away.

felix gave him a flat look. "you smiled during the pop quiz."

"okay, but it was multiple choice and I actually knew the answers today."

felix blinked. "you wrote a little heart next to your name on the paper."

jisung slapped a hand over his face with a soft groan. "I'm losing it."

"yes," felix said. "but at least you're losing it with style. that jacket looks better on you than it ever did on minho."

jisung let out a little huff of laughter and tugged it tighter around him, like he was trying to wrap himself in a memory. which, to be honest, he was.

he zoned out through most of the lecture. his professor's voice was background noise - muted behind the steady thrum of jisung's heartbeat and the lingering feel of minho's lips against his forehead, the way he'd looked at him like jisung was the only person in the universe that mattered.

his fingers fiddled absently with the hem of the jacket's sleeve. he was warm all over, in that slow-burning, content kind of way that made everything seem a little softer. he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like this - so seen, so steady.

it wasn't about the jacket. not really.

it was about everything that came with it.

minho's quiet kind of care. his gentleness disguised under that confident smirk. the way he always noticed things jisung didn't say aloud. the way he never asked jisung to be anything but himself.

the bell rang eventually, pulling him out of his thoughts.

students rustled around them, grabbing bags and chatting loudly as they filtered toward the door. jisung moved slowly, still half in a daze, and felix had to pull him by the wrist just to get him to stand up.

"you're not even on this planet anymore," felix muttered as they stepped into the hallway.

"I'm on a very specific planet," jisung said with a dreamy little grin. "minho."

felix groaned so loudly it turned heads. "gross. disgusting. I can't do this anymore."

but his grin matched jisung's as they walked side by side through the crowded hallway, dodging students and lockers and conversations.

he tugged the jacket closer and whispered to himself, "yeah. not taking this off anytime soon."

not when it felt like home.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

jisung spotted him the second he stepped out of the building.

minho.

leaning against his motorcycle like he'd stepped out of a movie scene and just decided to wreck jisung's ability to think straight.

he was wearing that dark denim shirt rolled up to his elbows, the sleeves a little wrinkled, the buttons undone just enough to reveal a sliver of his collarbone. his boots were planted firm against the pavement, and his leather gloves hung from his belt loop like they belonged there. His black helmet sat on the seat, while two helmets hung lazily from the handlebars.

two.

jisung's steps slowed immediately.

oh no.

his heart flipped. then spun. then collapsed into itself.

he's going to offer me a ride.

it wasn't like jisung hadn't dreamed of this - multiple times, actually, and embarrassingly often. minho pulling up on that bike like some scene out of a romance film, the wind in his hair, the faint roar of the engine, the unspoken thrill of something shared and slightly reckless. jisung behind him, arms wrapped tight around his waist, his cheek pressed to the back of minho's shoulder-

"stop," jisung muttered to himself, cheeks already warming. "get a grip."

but it was too late.

because the moment minho's eyes landed on him - still wrapped in his jacket, sleeves a little too long, the collar high against his neck - minho smirked. that slow, devastating kind of smirk that twisted at one side of his mouth and lit up his entire face.

jisung's heart stuttered.

"you're staring," minho said, voice low and entirely too smug as jisung finally reached him.

jisung rolled his eyes, clutching his backpack a little tighter. "you put two helmets out on purpose."

"I did." minho didn't even try to deny it.

his hand reached up to gently tug at the collar of the jacket. "still wearing this, huh?"

"I told felix I wasn't taking it off," jisung said, and then immediately regretted admitting that out loud.

minho's grin widened. "good."

then he held up one of the helmets. "come on. let me take you home."

jisung stared at it. then at minho. then back at the helmet.

"I've never ridden on one before." his voice was quieter now, a little uncertain. "like-ever."

minho tilted his head. "you trust me?"

and that- that was unfair. because yes. he did. with every fragile, warm, terrified part of himself.

he nodded.

minho handed him the helmet and stepped forward, lifting it into place over jisung's head with a gentleness that made something ache in jisung's chest. his fingers brushed lightly under jisung's jaw as he fastened the strap. he didn't say anything about how wide jisung's eyes were. he just smiled.

"you look cute in a helmet."

jisung made a noise of protest, half embarrassed, half flustered. "you're just saying that because you know I'm already dying inside."

"I would never take advantage of your flustered state," minho said, eyes sparkling as he handed him a pair of gloves.

"liar."

minho chuckled as he turned and mounted the bike, then glanced back at jisung with that same patient warmth he always gave him when jisung hesitated.

"ready?"

jisung climbed on, carefully, tucking his bag between them. his hands hovered awkwardly for a second before minho reached back, gently tugging them around his waist.

"there," he said softly. "like that."

jisung held on.

minho started the engine, and the vibrations traveled up through the seat, through his arms, his chest, until all of him was humming with it.

and when they pulled away from the university, wind rushing past them, jisung couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face.

it wasn't just the thrill of the ride.

it was the boy in front of him.
the one he trusted.
the one who knew how to steady his shaking hands.
the one who didn't care what people thought.

and maybe jisung was a little bit in love.

okay. a lot.

but that realization would come later. for now, he just held on tighter, leaned into minho's back, and let himself feel everything.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

minho lied.

he told jisung he'd take him home, and jisung had nodded, cheeks flushed pink under the helmet, hands already curling tighter around minho's waist. but the truth was - minho had no intention of taking him straight home.

because this - this moment - was something minho had dreamed about too many times to count. jisung behind him, arms around him, the wind whipping past, the city glowing around them. the fantasy didn't deserve to end in fifteen minutes flat on the curb in front of jisung's apartment.

so instead of turning left - the way to jisung's neighborhood - minho turned right.

he felt the way jisung stiffened behind him, just slightly, like he realized the direction was wrong. but he didn't say anything. he just pressed closer, his hands tightening a little more around minho's waist, as if to say wherever we're going, it's okay.

minho's lips curled up.

they cut through the city, weaving down familiar streets painted gold by the setting sun. the tall buildings reflected soft amber light, the glass and steel turning warm under dusk's glow. it wasn't rush hour yet, but the roads were buzzing - cars honking, music leaking from open windows, people on sidewalks moving in waves.

and yet, despite the chaos of it, minho felt peaceful.

there was something grounding about the weight of jisung's arms. the way his chest pressed lightly against minho's back every time they slowed. the occasional sound of his surprised laughter when minho leaned into a sharper turn, or accelerated a little too fast just to tease him.

minho had imagined this moment countless times - what it'd feel like, what it'd mean. but none of those dreams had prepared him for the quiet, beautiful realness of it.

they didn't speak, not yet. the roar of the engine filled the silence between them, and jisung didn't try to break it. minho just rode, taking streets he liked, shortcuts he knew, narrow lanes that opened into wide stretches of road with a view of the skyline.

eventually, when the city softened into something quieter, something gentler - minho turned down a road that led toward the river.

there was a small overlook not far from there. a tucked-away little spot with a bench and a low stone wall, where the view of the city lights glittering across the water looked like something out of a painting.

minho had found it in his second year and kept it to himself. until now.

he pulled up, the bike rumbling to a stop beneath him.

jisung's hands slowly slid away from his waist as he climbed off the bike, tugging the helmet off, his hair flattened in ridiculous ways.

minho turned to him, already smiling. "you still trust me?"

jisung narrowed his eyes. "you lied."

minho shrugged. "I do that sometimes."

"I'm starting to notice."

"but," minho said, tossing his helmet aside and stepping closer, "you didn't make me stop."

jisung hesitated for a second, then smiled - soft and small and too full of affection. "because it felt like you needed this."

minho stopped. his breath caught in his chest, the way it always did when jisung said something simple but hit too deep.

he reached out, brushing jisung's hair back into place with one hand, fingertips lingering a second longer than necessary. "yeah. I kinda did."

they ended up on the bench, the city sprawled out ahead of them, the river reflecting neon lights and soft pink clouds above.

jisung leaned his head on minho's shoulder, still wearing his jacket, still smelling like a mix of motor oil, fabric softener, and something warm that minho couldn't name.

"I've never done something like this," jisung said quietly, eyes on the water.

"something like what?"

"snuck away with a boy who makes me feel like the rest of the world doesn't matter."

minho didn't answer right away. his heart was too full, too loud in his ears. he turned his head, resting his cheek on the top of jisung's hair.

"then we're both doing it for the first time."

they stayed like that until the sun disappeared and the city came alive with lights. jisung's fingers found minho's again, and this time, they intertwined them.

and minho knew- he'd never forget this ride.
because this wasn't just a fantasy anymore.
it was real.
and it was theirs.

the overlook was quiet. the city hummed in the distance, the soft glow of its lights reflecting off the river like a trail of stars. the bench they sat on had grown colder with the evening breeze, but neither of them moved - not even when their shoulders brushed, not even when jisung shifted just a little closer.

minho still had his arm draped over the back of the bench, fingers occasionally tracing the edge of jisung's shoulder as if he couldn't help it, like touching him had become a habit.

jisung had long since melted into the warmth of minho's side, still wrapped in that oversized leather jacket, still wearing that soft, dazed smile he always got when he was around minho too long.

and he had been staring at minho's jeans for maybe the last fifteen minutes.

"...you're wearing these jeans again," he said suddenly, voice quiet, but not exactly casual.

minho blinked, glancing down at his legs like he needed to remind himself what he had put on today.

"these jeans?" he asked, and when his eyes landed on the tight, black denim clinging to his thighs, his smirk bloomed instantly. that knowing, slow, devilish one that made jisung's brain short-circuit every time.

"oh. you mean the magical jeans?"

jisung looked up at him, eyes narrowing with confusion. "magical?"

minho tilted his head, teasing. "yeah. I was wearing them that day we made eye contact at the courtyard. remember? when you looked at me like I'd just kicked you in the chest?"

it hit jisung then. hard.

he remembered that moment. the exact moment. minho had looked up, bored, cocky, leaning against the wall like he owned it, and jisung's breath had caught in his throat.

"you remembered that?" jisung whispered, voice small.

minho turned toward him fully, his fingers ghosting over the side of jisung's jaw. "of course I remembered. it was the first time I saw the boy who was gonna wreck me."

jisung stared at him, lips parted, cheeks flushed, eyes flickering from minho's mouth to his eyes and back again - and something shifted.

minho leaned in, not too fast, not too slow - just enough to give jisung time to stop him. but jisung didn't. he leaned in too.

and somehow, between that breath and the next, jisung ended up in minho's lap.

he wasn't even sure how it happened. maybe minho tugged him in. maybe jisung just moved on instinct. one second they were sitting close - too close - and the next, jisung was straddling him, knees braced on either side of minho's thighs, hands planted on his shoulders like he didn't trust the ground beneath him not to shift.

minho's hands came to his waist - warm, steady - and jisung swore the contact sent a shiver up his spine.

"fuck," minho whispered, eyes flickering between jisung's lips and his eyes. "you're gonna kill me, aren't you?"

jisung didn't answer. couldn't. his heart was too full and too fast and his thoughts were a blur of yes, finally, please.

he was too focused on the way minho's thumbs dragged under the hem of his jacket - his jacket - finding the soft curve of his waist, pressing just hard enough to make jisung's breath catch.

too focused on the way minho looked up at him like he was something rare, something worth praying to. his pupils were blown wide, lips parted, and for the first time jisung realized - minho was trembling too.

then minho kissed him.

and it wasn't soft - not like the ones they'd shared before.

this kiss was hungry.

it hit jisung like a wave, stealing the air from his lungs. minho's mouth opened against his with a low groan, hands tugging him closer, fingers splayed against the small of his back.

jisung kissed back just as desperately. head tilted, lips parted, gasping into minho's mouth like he couldn't breathe unless they were touching. he shifted in minho's lap, grinding down ever so slightly - unconscious, instinctive - and felt the sharp shock of heat between them as minho hissed against his lips.

their mouths moved in messy rhythm - wet, open-mouthed kisses, tongues brushing, teeth scraping just slightly. jisung's fingers curled into the collar of minho's shirt, pulling, anchoring himself as minho kissed him like he wanted to memorize every shape he could make out of jisung's mouth.

minho's hand slid up his back, under his shirt this time, palm warm as it pressed against the base of his spine. jisung gasped into his mouth and minho swallowed it whole, groaning as his other hand slid up to cradle the back of jisung's head.

jisung shivered, but didn't pull away.

he pressed in harder.

their kisses grew deeper - slower, filthier. tongues tangled lazily. breath escaped in broken little sighs. minho bit his lower lip gently and jisung whined. jisung tugged minho's hair at the nape and minho moaned.

it was an unraveling in slow motion.

time didn't exist anymore.

there was only the soft pant of their breathing, the low sounds they dragged from each other's mouths, the heat building between them like a storm held at bay.

jisung finally pulled back an inch - just one - just to breathe. his forehead pressed against minho's, noses brushing, eyes barely open.

his lips were swollen, glossy with spit, flushed to the point of trembling. minho looked just as wrecked, his cheeks pink, pupils blown, hair mussed from where jisung's fingers had clutched at it.

they just breathed for a moment.

the air between them was thick with everything unspoken.

"you're dangerous in those jeans," jisung whispered, voice wrecked and full of warmth.

minho laughed, but it came out more like a groan. "you're dangerous no matter what I'm wearing."

jisung dipped back in. "yeah?" he breathed, lips brushing minho's again. "good."

and when minho dragged him down into another kiss, open and wet and perfect, jisung melted into him like he never wanted to be anywhere else again.

and there, under the stars, wrapped in stolen kisses and each other's arms, minho was pretty sure he'd never loved anyone more.

the world around them faded. the air was cool, but neither of them noticed, not with jisung tucked against minho's chest, his face hidden in the crook of minho's neck. the weight of the moment pressed down on them, but it wasn't heavy - it was just... right.

minho's hands moved in slow, steady circles on jisung's back, grounding him, reminding him that this was real. that they were real.

jisung didn't know how long they stayed like that, time stretching out as they just breathed together. there was a peace in the way they fit, like they were two pieces of a puzzle that had always been meant for each other. his fingers curled into minho's shirt, holding on like he was afraid if he let go, the world would come crashing back in.

minho could feel jisung's breath on his neck, soft and steady. he felt the way jisung's body relaxed against him, the tension from earlier slipping away with each gentle stroke of his hand. minho could feel his heartbeat beneath his chest, slow and steady, the sound of jisung's pulse grounding him as much as the rhythmic circles on his back.

everything about this moment felt sacred.

jisung shifted a little, moving just enough to tuck his face more comfortably against minho's skin. his fingers gripped minho's shirt a little tighter, as if he didn't know how to express the sudden wave of emotion that hit him, crashing through him like a tide he couldn't hold back.

and then, in the quietest whisper, almost too quiet for minho to hear, jisung spoke.

"I love you."

the words were muffled against minho's skin, so soft that they might've been lost in the breeze. but they were there, real and raw. they lingered in the space between them, like a secret jisung had been holding onto for longer than he realized.

minho's body froze for a second. the world tilted, shifted on its axis, as if the very air around him had changed. his breath caught in his throat, and his chest tightened, heart racing, unable to process what he had just heard.

jisung pulled away slightly, lifting his head just enough to meet minho's gaze, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide with a kind of vulnerability minho had never seen before. there was a flicker of uncertainty there, like jisung wasn't sure how minho would respond, or if those words had been too much, too soon.

but minho couldn't help himself. His hands stilled on jisung's back, but everything else felt like it was in motion. his heart was thumping so loudly in his chest, he was sure jisung could hear it too.

"jisung," minho breathed, his voice thick with something that felt almost like wonder. he reached up, his fingers brushing against jisung's face, gently tilting his head so their eyes met.

his touch was so tender, so careful, as if jisung were something fragile - something precious. minho's eyes searched jisung's face, looking for anything, everything. something that could tell him that this wasn't just a fleeting moment. something that could tell him that jisung really meant it.

and jisung didn't pull away. he just stared back at minho, his heart laid bare in his eyes. his lips parted, as if he wanted to say more, but he didn't need to. the look on his face said everything.

minho's chest tightened even more, and he swallowed, trying to steady himself, to hold onto the words that were on the tip of his tongue. he had been waiting for this - waiting for the moment when jisung would say it, but now that it was here, it felt too big, too overwhelming to fully comprehend.

"I love you too," minho whispered, his voice unsteady, but his words were true. they were real. "I love you so much."

and it was like the world had shifted again. the stars seemed to shine a little brighter above them. the air felt a little warmer, even though the temperature hadn't changed. everything around them felt quieter, as if the universe itself had paused to give them this moment.

jisung's eyes softened, and for a split second, minho could see something unguarded in him - something that mirrored his own feelings.

then jisung smiled, a small, shy thing that only made minho's heart race even more. it was the kind of smile that said everything without saying a word. it was the kind of smile that said I'm home.

minho leaned in slowly, the space between them closing once more. he brushed his lips against jisung's forehead, his heart still pounding in his chest, not quite sure how to contain the flood of emotions that had just overwhelmed him.

jisung let out a soft breath, his hands slipping around minho's neck as he leaned into the kiss, soft and lingering. minho held him close, not wanting to ever let go. they stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in each other's arms, in the quiet serenity of their own little world.

minho knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was it. this was where he was meant to be. with jisung. always.

and for the first time in a long while, minho felt something he hadn't felt in years. peace.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

minho felt it before he fully processed it - jisung's body growing heavier, the subtle shift of weight against him, the slower, softer rhythm of his breathing. he tilted his head just slightly, enough to glance down at the boy nestled in his arms.

jisung's lashes were fluttering in that way they did when he was fighting sleep, and his cheek was squished slightly where it pressed into minho's neck. his arms had loosened a little, still draped around minho but with none of the tension they'd held earlier.

he smiled, quiet and fond, brushing a gentle hand down jisung's spine. his jacket was still draped around jisung's small frame, and something about that made minho's chest ache in the best way. he shifted slightly, adjusting the way he was sitting so jisung wouldn't slip, and the movement made jisung stir just a little.

"you falling asleep on me, baby?" minho asked softly, his voice low and warm, almost teasing.

jisung hummed, but didn't lift his head. "m'not," he murmured, even though his voice was thick with exhaustion, his words slow and lazy. "just... comfortable."

that made minho smile even more. of course jisung was comfortable - he'd practically melted into him. but the sun was beginning to dip behind the skyline, casting everything in a warm, fading gold. It was getting late.

minho leaned back just enough to look at jisung's face properly. his eyes were half-lidded now, and if minho let him stay like this for even ten more minutes, he'd be completely out.

minho pressed a soft kiss to jisung's temple before murmuring, "hey, sungie... let me take you home."

jisung blinked slowly, finally pulling back just a little to look up at him. "m'kay," he whispered, rubbing his eye with the sleeve of the jacket. "will you come in for a bit?"

the way he asked - quiet, unsure - made minho pause. "you want me to?" he asked, brushing some of jisung's hair away from his eyes.

jisung nodded, just once. "yeah."

minho didn't ask for more. he simply stood up, helping jisung steady himself before guiding them back to the motorcycle. jisung moved slowly, a little dazed, still clearly on the edge of sleep, but he clung to minho's hand the whole way. his fingers were cold, so minho tucked both their hands into his pocket as they walked.

he handed jisung the helmet first, then his own. jisung's hands fumbled with the straps, so minho took over, securing it for him with a soft smile.

"still sleepy?" he asked, brushing his knuckles along jisung's cheek.

jisung nodded again. "you make me feel safe."

those words hit minho like a punch to the heart - but a good one, the kind that left him breathless and full.

"let's get you home, yeah?"

jisung climbed on behind him, arms immediately wrapping around minho's waist, cheek pressing between his shoulder blades. minho could feel every bit of him - warm, soft, his - and it made the entire ride feel different. slower. sweeter.

the streets blurred past in a quiet rhythm of engine hums and wind against their clothes. uisung didn't speak, didn't shift - just stayed tucked in, letting minho carry him, trusting him completely.

when they arrived at jisung's apartment, minho parked carefully and shut off the engine. jisung still clung to him for a second longer before finally pulling back with a sleepy breath. minho turned around, unbuckling the helmet and helping him remove it.

"you okay to walk up?" he asked.

"only if you walk with me."

minho chuckled. "I wasn't going anywhere."

they walked up the familiar stairwell together, minho's hand on the small of jisung's back, gently guiding. once inside, the moment the door closed, jisung leaned against it, kicking off his shoes slowly before looking up at minho.

"you always take care of me," he whispered.

minho stepped closer, hands finding jisung's waist, his forehead resting against jisung's. "always will."

jisung didn't say anything else. he just leaned up, brushing a soft kiss to minho's lips. it wasn't hurried or heated - it was slow, grateful. like a thank you whispered in a language only the two of them understood.

minho helped him out of his jacket before they settled on the couch, jisung curling up beside him, his head on minho's chest. the world outside continued on, traffic and wind and the buzz of city life... but in here, it was quiet.

minho held him close, his fingers threading through jisung's hair, heart full. maybe this hadn't been what he planned for the day, but as jisung drifted off to sleep in his arms, minho realized- this was exactly where he wanted to be.

every single day.

⊹˚∘˙✉˙∘˚⊹

the apartment was quiet, bathed in the dim golden haze of the city lights seeping in through the window blinds. the only sound was the soft whir of a ceiling fan and the slow, steady breathing of the boy lying in minho's arms.

jisung.

minho was awake - fully, entirely awake - but he wasn't restless. not in the way people were when they had nightmares, or too much caffeine, or deadlines gnawing at their peace.

no, this was different. this was a kind of stillness that made him want to stay right here, in this exact moment, for as long as time would allow.

his body was relaxed, curled protectively around the boy beside him, one arm tucked under jisung's shoulders, the other resting lightly against his waist. their legs were tangled lazily under a thin blanket, and jisung's face was buried just under minho's jaw, breath warm against his neck.

minho couldn't look away from him.

jisung looked peaceful like this. his features soft and open, mouth parted slightly, brows unfurrowed. like he didn't carry the weight of a thousand worries in his chest. like the world was kind and still and his.

and minho felt like the luckiest person alive.

he kept his gaze on jisung's sleeping form, and his mind, unprompted, began to replay everything. all of it. from the very beginning.

that first note.

god, he'd thought it was stupid. a crumpled piece of paper in his locker with too many exclamation points and a quote about stars or hearts or fate. cringe. but he'd read it. and then he found another the next day. then another. and somehow, somehow, what started as something to scoff at became something he looked forward to.

the way those notes were written - soft, vulnerable, warm - it didn't feel like someone just trying to get attention. it felt like someone was watching. seeing him.

and minho, the boy who built walls so tall no one could climb them, had started to wait for the next one.

he never thought love letters could break him down like that.

but then he met the author. and every sarcastic remark he had prepared fell apart the moment jisung stepped forward, nervous and stammering and wide-eyed, with the kind of sincerity that could shatter even the most guarded heart.

messy, shy, real. beautiful.

jisung wasn't just the one behind the notes - he was the reason minho's entire view of the world had tilted. suddenly, the hallways looked different. the mornings were warmer. the hours softer. suddenly, everything he once avoided - affection, vulnerability, love - became something he wanted.

and it was terrifying. terrifying in a way that made his hands tremble and his voice falter. but jisung held his hand anyway.

he didn't push. he didn't expect. he just stayed.

and that... that was how minho started falling.

then came everything else - the quiet hallway moments, the shared secrets in the dark, the touches that grew less hesitant and more instinctive. the way jisung took his bruised hands in his own like they were something precious. the way he looked at minho like he was someone good. someone worth loving.

minho never believed in love.

he thought it was something people made up. something fragile. a trick. but then jisung came, armed with nothing but sticky notes, trembling hands, and a heart big enough to hold the universe - and minho believed.

he believed, because loving jisung felt like breathing. natural. involuntary. necessary.

a sleepy sound pulled him from his thoughts, and minho looked down to find jisung shifting slightly in his arms, brows drawing together, lips pressing into a soft pout. he was uncomfortable on the couch. of course he was.

minho moved gently, careful not to wake him as he sat up and scooped jisung into his arms. jisung murmured something against his shoulder, but didn't stir further, head resting against minho's chest like it was his home.

minho carried him through the apartment with practiced ease, nudging open the bedroom door with his foot. the bed was unmade, pillows a mess, but it didn't matter.

he laid jisung down softly, pausing only to brush a few strands of hair from his forehead before crawling in beside him. the moment minho was close, jisung turned toward him automatically, seeking him out in his sleep like it was instinct. and it probably was.

minho pulled the blanket over them both, wrapping his arm securely around jisung's waist and tucking him closer. their noses were nearly touching now, breaths mingling in the warm quiet of the room.

he couldn't stop staring.

and then, without meaning to, he whispered, "I love you."

it was quiet. fragile. like a secret he'd been keeping from himself. but now that it was out, he didn't want to take it back.

minho ran his fingers through jisung's hair, his touch slow and reverent. "I can't believe how much I love you," he whispered again, like if he said it softly enough, the world would pause to listen.

there was no response. just the steady sound of jisung's breathing, and the softness of his body tucked against minho like a prayer answered.

minho pressed a kiss to jisung's forehead, then settled in fully, pulling the boy into his chest as he rested his chin on top of his head and finally closed his eyes.

and in that quiet, still moment - wrapped around the boy who'd wrecked every wall he had with kindness and crumpled paper - minho knew one thing for sure:

jisung fell first, but minho fell harder.