Archive of Our Own

Minho has never been anywhere.

Well, of course he's been to his local grocery store. And the beach down the road he's visited nearly every day since he was born. And he once got bored over break in highschool when he was fifteen, and decided to venture on the short trail in the woods a few streets over. That one was considered reckless since everyone in the town was convinced a man had died there once hundreds of years ago, and that he now haunted the area. Minho didn’t feel any ‘haunted’ presence, but he did twist his ankle after tripping over a log only three seconds after starting down the gravelly path. Safe to say, he stuck to just visiting the beach after that.

Lee Minho, born an only child to two regular parents in a mountainous wooded sea-side town, secluded from what appeared to be the rest of the entire world population besides those whose families had lived there for decades. He was happy there. Although, this was all he knew anyways. Growing up he had no friends. Not because he couldn’t make any, but due to the fact there were almost no young people in the town to join him in his classes. He had the same five classmates from preschool to graduation, and they didn’t hate him at all, but he just never felt any connection to them. They seemed to have felt the same way, except only towards Minho. Three of them were best friends, all from parents on the other side of the town. (Yet it wasn’t that far, considering you could drive through the entire place within five minutes.) The other two were twins, who stayed eachothers best friend since conception. They never liked to talk to anyone else for some reason, but they let Minho have some of their fruit snacks sometimes during elementary. Only the green ones.

His parents were normal. To him at least. They were weird to the rest of their hundred count population, since they seemed to never really interact with anyone outside of their own home. His father worked from home, while his mother worked baking for the local grocery store. She also worked from home, and would drive her breads and pastries thirty seconds down the road every other day. Neither of them had friends. Minho's entire life only consisted of himself and his two parents. When he was six, and had just realized he was the only person in his class to have no friend or sibling, he asked his parents why he didn’t have a brother or sister.

His mother scoffed and looked at him while tilting her head left, “All we need is you. Why would we change what is already our perfect family?” she said while wrapping her arm around his tiny shoulders.

His father sat on the chair across from the couch, completely unaware of the conversation from being immersed in his old newspaper which he had already read countless times. Minho wasn’t extremely close to his parents, which may have been a bit odd considering they’re the only people he's really known, but there was always some sort of barrier. Whether it was them being immersed in their work, or only conversing with him in short and unfulfilling answers. But he was okay with it. Once when he was nine he tried to ask about his grandparents, what they were like and how they came to live here. His mother and father looked at each other for a few seconds, somehow communicating something with each other through their eyes alone.

“Well, it’s not that interesting.” His mother started. “Our families have lived here for hundreds of years. Both of our parents died before you were even conjured up in our heads as an idea.”

Minho deflated for a few seconds, trying to think of something else to say to get more information, he doesn’t know why he was so desperate. Maybe because it felt like he would be getting to know someone new and interesting for the first time in his life, even if only through a story.

“What were they like?” Minho asked after his short time of silence.

His mother sighed, looking a bit annoyed at the continuous questions. “They were normal people. You have homework, don't you? Please go start working on that.” she said, waving her hand dismissively.

He nodded slowly while getting up to leave to his room. He didn't feel like he got much relief from the answers, just more confused than before he asked.

Most people might have felt isolated and alone, even if that was all they had known of life so far. But Minho? He was content. He liked the quiet of their dinners, and the way the house stilled after his parents went to sleep at seven pm every night. He had privacy and the ability to do his studying and reading in complete silence. His parents didn’t watch tv a lot, normally opting to read or sew some new blanket or sweater. So if Minho did get tired of having no noise, he walked down to the beach next to his house. The beach was one of his favorite things he’s ever had the chance to encounter in his life. The calmness of the waves, along with the burning sand under his toes during summer and the way the freezing water felt on his fingertips in winter. It was a place he went whenever he truly wanted to sit and think. Or if he wanted to smell something other than the burnt orange and lemon candle his mother made and burned religiously throughout the house. His only hobbies consisted of visiting the beach, and reading the random books his father appeared to have had for over thirty years collecting dust in the corner of his library room. He couldn’t swim, since his parents deemed it too dangerous to try, but he enjoyed reading and becoming immersed in the stories of random made up people. Sometimes he tried to write his own stories, but he always ended up with a blank page after hours of attempting to conjure up a plot or person in his head. It seemed impossible, with the only personalities he could think of always ending up being oddly similar to his mother and fathers.

When Minho turned seventeen and was in his last year of highschool, he never considered anything outside of staying in his town for the rest of his life. Even leaving for any type of higher education was out of the question, as discussing that with his parents had led to his mother becoming stressed, and he hated when she was upset.

“Why would you ever consider something like that?” his mother gasped in shock, setting down the whisk she had in her hand for the lemon cake she was making.

His dad was reading another newspaper in the living room, but the small house size allowed him to hear the conversation perfectly, causing him to quickly rise over to the kitchen.

“That is one of the worst things you could have said. You know how unsafe it is for you to be anywhere outside of this town, Minho.” his father crossed his arms, leaning against the door frame that leads into the dining area.

Minho didn’t understand why it was so bad. Well, he remembers the countless times his mother would randomly say, “There’s very bad people outside of our town, you should never leave here under any circumstances,” but he didn't think it was that serious.

“Your whole life I have told you what bad things can happen to you if you leave. What if you get hurt? What if someone hurts you? The reason this town is safe is because our great grandparents own great grandparents had spent their whole lives making sure they found the right place. You can’t just throw all of that away.” his mother said, loudly increasing in volume as she kept talking. “Never consider anything like this again. You stay in this town, that is final.”

Minho had no words. What could he say? His entire life he may have felt okay with being alone, but he would be lying if he said he never considered the idea of seeing other places for the first time. Although he wanted that, he also loved his parents even if they ended up saying something against what he felt like doing. They were all he’s ever known. Now that he weighs the two options of leaving and staying, he realizes he can’t live without his parents. What type of good son would he be to disregard everything they’ve ever done to make sure he stayed safe. He has been safe. He’s never felt like he was in danger before, and he had a pretty straightforward life. He also realized he would be putting his parents under stress and be forcing them to worry about his every move if he leaves.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t really think about that before.” Minho replied, looking at his feet and nervously picking under his nails. His mother sighed in response, while his father walked back into the living room shaking his head and picking up the newspaper again.

“This is the first and only talk we will have about this.” she said, turning around and picking up the whisk again.

•·················•·················•

On one evening when Minho was twenty two, his parents announced they had to travel for something pertaining to his dads job. He was confused. Extremely confused. His parents have never traveled. They’ve never been on a vacation, or even just directly outside of the town for more than ten minutes aside from the one time his mother had to drop off some cupcakes to the home of the grocery store owner, as she had fallen ill a few days before and couldn’t bake for a while. That had led her to fall behind in her batches, so she stayed up to deliver them to the owner hours before the store opened.

“I know it's a shock. I also know you’re probably wondering why we can leave and you can’t, well to answer that one it’s because we're adults and we know better.” his mother began.

Minho felt even more confused at that. Wasn’t he an adult too?

“We will be gone for a day and a half. We leave in about an hour, so just make sure you don't dirty the house too much.” she said, quickly turning to walk down the hall towards their bedroom.

Why was he always confused? He thought about it, and realized he has always been confused when it came to his parents. Confused, and left out. Why did they never tell him anything? They left out every detail, and if he tried to ask about it more they’d always ignore his questions. He still didn’t really know what his dad did constantly for work, but he assumed he was a writer since the amount of reading he did and books he owned was astounding. He never really asked, knowing he wouldn’t receive a reply anyways, but he still felt curious about what they were going elsewhere to do.

Knowing he’d have to quickly come to terms with it and let it go, considering that’s how it’s always been, he let out the deep breath he was holding and turned to the random novel he picked from his dads shelf about some romance thriller between a woman who worked as a lawyer, and a man she bumped into who works in news reporting, apparently asking questions about a murderous case she had been working on. He never understood romance. Really, what’s so amazing about dating a woman? He doesn’t think he’d ever get married, or have a girlfriend. Especially since his parents never seemed to mind, or bring it up. They didn’t even really care that he had no friends at school, saying it was fine and probably even safer that he didn’t, which affirmed his liking of solitude. But he still entertained the thought, randomly inserting himself into the male character of a romance book he was reading for a few seconds to curiously feel his own reaction to it. He was fine when it was just the normal dialogue, but once the main guy started to kiss the woman he suddenly downturned his lips and blinked at the wall, immediately shaking his head of the thought. Did people really enjoy this?

•·················•·················•

It has been one day since his parents left. They left at nine am, and should return later that night. Minho was currently sitting on the living room floor, reading another odd book he found. He was about to go to the beach in an hour, but still felt a little too lazy to use his strength to get up. While reading the start of the third chapter, there was a knock on the door. This slightly alarmed Minho, as no one ever came over. Their neighbors' houses are all spaced far from their own, and even aside from that never in his twenty two years of life has any of them knocked on the door for any reason.

The person knocked four times, and Minho stayed on the floor staring at the door in confusion, waiting to see if they’d knock again or leave. Maybe they had the wrong house? But apparently not, as the knocking began again but louder, so Minho finally decided to get up and see who was at the door.

Upon opening it, he sees a man in a uniform, obviously police. Although, he has only really seen a police man on the television, or read about them in books. Since his town is relatively the safest, there's no need for them to be around much. But upon closer inspection of the man's uniform, it reads ‘Woolhope Police Department,’ which is definitely not his town. He’s never heard of that name before.

“Is your name Minho Lee?” the officer asks, glancing down at a small piece of paper.

“Um… Yeah. Yes it is.” Minho starts quietly. He’s not used to having to speak to random people, especially someone who doesn’t even know him or live in his town.

“Well, I'm sorry to have to uh, tell you this. But your parents were recently involved in a car accident. They didn’t make it, son.”

Minho blinks about twenty times in the next five seconds. What?

“What do you mean?” he replies, confused and not really comprehending the man's words.

The officer looks apologetic. He looks at the paper in his hands one last time before putting it back into his coat pocket, taking a deep breath.

“It was some drunk driver. This was last night about, nine pm or so. If you are able to come up to our station we can have a bit more discussion, but I know right now might not be a great time.”

Minho doesn’t really have any feelings he can name right now. He’s never had to deal with death. His grandparents died before he was born, his parents have always been alive, and his school teacher is still thriving at her old age. His classmates are still alive, and the owner of the grocery store down the street is still alive.

“I can come right now. I’ll.. I’ll go down to the station right now.”

He doesn’t know why he said that. The police station obviously won't be in his town. His parent’s would be furious.

•·················•·················•

Four months later, Minho still lives in his home. In his town. Except he does work at the local gas station now. He doesn’t need a job, considering his parents had made a will when he was born, and left all of their belongings and money to him. Apparently, whatever his dad did kept them more than comfortable. All the money his dad had caused him to wonder why they never used it on anything like vacation or even a new television set, since their’s sometimes would stop working occasionally. But he supposes it was because it was probably dangerous to go on vacation, and they had that television for the entirety of Minho’s twenty two years alive. They were used to it.

Minho decided to get the job as he found that spending all day reading eventually means you run out of things to read, and he can’t just sit at the beach all day, although he might have liked to. He wanted something different in his life. He still honors his parents wishes, reminding himself that he’s still safe. That them leaving caused them to die, and if they had stayed they would still be alive. Their constant reminders of the town being his only protection only became more truthful to Minho after their death. They did always tell him he was allowed to work at either the gas station or grocery store if he truly had to, since they didn’t really have many options there anyways. But those two were the closest to their home, and his parents had frequently shopped at them, so they were deemed the safest options. He didn’t feel like he was betraying them.

He didn’t cry when the officer told him the news on his front door step, and he didn’t cry when he sat down in the station and was shown images of the car wreck. He didn’t cry at their funeral, which was set up by the owner of the grocery store as apparently in their will his mother had already had that planned out if it were to ever happen. After the funeral, which was a week after he found out about their death, he came home, to the same home he lived in a week ago the day that they left. He decided he will leave the home exactly how it has always been. It’s safer that way.

Minho did cry for the first time when he woke up on the couch at ten in the morning, a month after the funeral. He woke up and felt normal for a few moments, until he realized the house no longer smells like burnt oranges and lemon. He doesn't know how to make those candles, his mother never showed him. He cried for multiple reasons. He cried because he misses the smell of his mother. She smelled like the candles, considering she made and burned them constantly every week. The missing smell made him realize he hasn't tasted cherry pie or orange cream cake in what felt like forever. He doesn’t know how to make those either. Even though she never told him how to do anything, and was short and small in her conversations with him, she was still his mother. He still hugged her before he left for school, and she kissed the top of his head every night before he went to sleep as a child. She kissed the top of his head for the last time the day he graduated high school at seventeen. She would play house with him as a child, again as he had no siblings or friends to. She kept him safe. He misses when she kept him in line, because now it feels like he doesn’t know what to do. He has no sense of direction. Before, he had his parents to tell him when something was a definite yes or no, and he obeyed. Now it feels as if he can do anything, but also nothing. Something has always itched inside of him to explore, yet was always shot down by his parents. But if he were to act on any of the urges he has to leave, for even a second, he knows he’d feel the daggering eyes of his parents on his back as he opened the front door and left. He also would have no idea what to do, or where to go. They never taught him about places besides their own town. He only vaguely remembers the name of the town the officer was from, and that was the only place he’s heard of that wasn't home. He’s lost and confused again.
•·················•·················•

Six months after their death, Minho is starting another day of work at the gas station down the road from his house. He works from twelve to nine, with the gas station always closing a little earlier as they don't get that many customers. He is the only employee, aside from the owner who comes in to check stock and converse with his old buddies that come in to chat. It’s not the most entertaining, and he has had a few older women ask about his parents, but it’s something to do.

The bell chimes alerting of a new customer, and Minho doesn’t have to yell out any ‘welcomes to,’ since everybody knows everybody and everything in the store anyways. He’s currently immersed in a new book he found which was being sold in the gas station, some random comic book he’s never had the chance to read before since his father didn't have that genre in his library.

“Hi, just the two energy drinks.” a deep voice speaks.

Minho whips his head up in confusion. He has never in his life heard that voice before, and before he can wonder, he gets shocked even more.

The guy has dark brown medium-ish wavy hair, large cheeks, ear piercings, and what appears to be eyes you’d see on some sort of woodland creature. He’s about the same height as Minho, just a few inches shorter. He kind of looks like a squirrel, now that Minho considers it for a few seconds.

“Um… I’m checking out now, are you okay dude?” He says, obviously confused by Minho’s long stare and lack of response.

Minho shakes his head, finally coming back to his senses. “I am so sorry. One second.” he quickly stammers and starts typing in the drinks on the cash register, grabbing a bag to put them in.

The guy laughs. Loud and deep. It makes Minho stop his bagging and look up in shock again, wide eyes blinking. He notices the heart shape of the guys mouth when he smiles, and the way his eyes crinkle as he leans back a bit to catch his breath.

“Nah, it's okay. I would’ve thought you had seen a ghost or something. You looked really shocked.” He says while opening his wallet.

“I just, I’ve never seen you here before. This isn’t necessarily a hot spot to travel through.” Minho responds, taking the cash from the man.

“Yeah uh, well i’m actually staying here indefinitely for a little while. My grandparents have an old home here they used to stay in for vacation at one point a long ass time ago, so I'm renting that out.”

Minho can't stop staring. And blinking. He doesn’t know what to think again. Why is he always confused?

“Oh. Well, I hope your stay is good.” Minho smiles tight lipped, handing the man his bag and change.

The man quickly yells out a, ‘see you around’ as he opens the door to leave and get into his car.

Minho watches him all the way from getting into his car until he’s driven out of sight, playing loud music and taking a right towards the same direction of his own house.

As Minho returns home that night, takes a shower and gets ready to lay in bed with the second volume of the comic book from the gas station, he instead lays in bed and stares at the ceiling with it laying fully closed on his chest, the only source of light being the moon trickling in from his slightly pulled back curtains. He keeps replaying the encounter in his head. He thinks about the way the man's laugh sounded, and the wide black pants and leather jacket he had on. He also thinks about his ear piercings, and how he had headphones wrapped around his neck. He thinks about every detail of the three minute encounter for so long that he realizes he fell asleep and woke up to the sound of the birds chirping outside his window, in the large tree he used to climb as a child until his mother told him it was too dangerous to do anymore. He realizes he can’t remember what he dreamt about, but that it definitely included someone with big round brown eyes.

•·················•·················•

Minho makes a cup of tea before he heads to the gas station every afternoon, putting it inside of the same thermostat he’s had since he was ten. It isn’t pretty, but it does the job well, and it's familiar. He walks to work since he had never learned how to drive, and it's very close to his house anyways. He shuts the door, and as he turns to his left he sees somebody getting out of their car in the driveway to the left. Since the houses aren't extremely close, he can't really see who it is too well, but the person seems to recognize him before he can do the same.

“Hey! You’re the dude who works at the gas station right?” a slightly familiar deep voice calls out. It seems to bounce off the snowy ground, making them seem a lot closer than they are in proximity.

Before Minho can even think of how to reply, the guy is jogging over. Minho gets a little scared for him, hoping he doesn’t slip on any ice as he’s in regular sneakers, but thankfully he only encounters a tiny slip before walking up Minho's driveway to meet him at the front door.

“Were neighbors now, isn’t that exciting?” he starts, slightly out of breath which makes Minho feel like letting out a small laugh.

Minho nods. “I.. assumed someone had already lived there.” he begins.

The man looks confused, and then smiles “You don't know your neighbors that well, huh?”

The smile makes Minho's heart beat a little bit quicker, but he blames it on the whole meeting a stranger thing instead.

“Yeah… I don’t really get out too much, so.” Minho replies, not feeling any embarrassment as that’s all he's known anyways.

“Well, now you know one of your neighbors. My name is Jisung.” He says, holding out his gloved hand, although the gloves have the fingertips snipped off so Minho isn’t sure how much gloving they're actually doing.

“Minho. My name is Minho.” He holds out his own hand, slowly grabbing onto Jisung’s, his own hand ungloved as he couldn't figure out where his mother kept his gloves for the winter. She never told him.

As he feels his bare hand touch Jisung’s partially gloved one, he pulls back almost immediately after shaking it. He can still feel the burn of Jisung’s uncovered fingertips on his own palm.

“Are you heading off to the gas station now? Or do you have some other things you have to do? You’re probably going to hang out with someone or something. I’m sorry I'm rambling. I wasn’t expecting to find many younger people here. My grandparents said it was all old people, that’s why I came here, to have some solitude. Not that you’re ruining it or anything.” Jisung quickly says, round cheeks heating up both from embarrassment and the cold winter air nipping at his face.

Minho smiles, and his heart feels weird. “Yeah, I am heading there actually. I also…” he stops for a second, not that used to keeping up a conversation this long with anybody. He’s never even talked to his parents this long, they’ve never said such long descriptive sentences like this.

“I'm sorry, am I making you uncomfortable? I tend to talk a lot when I get excited.” Jisung asks.

Minho shakes his head quickly, “No, no. I’m sorry, I just.. I’m not used to having such long conversations.” he looks down at his own feet for a second, avoiding eye contact.

When he looks up, Jisung is staring at him wide eyed, the same way he was staring at Jisung when Minho looked up to see him standing at the counter yesterday.

“Can I walk with you there?” Jisung asks.

Minho's own cheeks heat up, blinking and nodding a little too aggressively.

They start walking down the driveway, shoulders bumping into each other. For some reason it feels like he has a magnet stuck inside of his shoulder, forcefully pulling him onto the surface that is Jisung. Jisung doesn't seem to mind, doing the same back to him when Minho pulls away after realizing the sudden body contact.

“So, what are you visiting indefinitely for, Jisung?” Minho starts. They’re already halfway to the gas station.

Jisung lights up at the question. “I’m a musician, and I was feeling a little lost on what to write for my next song, so when I told my grandparents they were all like, ‘you should go up to our old vacation house, we haven't been there in years but maybe you’ll get inspiration.’” he explains, doing a higher pitched voice to mimic the sound of his grandmother.

Minho furrows his eyebrows. A musician? Obviously Minho has listened to music before, but his parents normally didn’t, so he didn’t feel any need to either. He especially never considered that becoming a musician was a thing people did. It just never became a realization to him. In his mind, the singer from a song was just some imaginary being. Of course he knew they were real people, but he wasn't taught to have any interest in them.

“Are you judging me? Wait, please don’t tell me you’re like, one of those people who thinks choosing to be a musician is wasting your life away and that I'm gonna just be poor and asking for money in my guitar case on the streets for the rest of my life. Well, I have done that before when I started singing when I was 14, but my mom didn’t let me anymore so-”

“No, I think it’s really cool actually. I’ve never met someone who was a musician before.”

Jisungs eyes light up at that. He lets out an exaggerated sigh, while wiping off the fake sweat from his forehead. “Thank God, I thought our friendship was going to be over as soon as it started.”

Minho smiles and chuckles at Jisung’s performance, but the words ‘friendship’ settles in his head much too late before Jisung is already switching conversations again.

“Were here, what's your schedule anyways? Also, do you know any like, cool spots I could go to for some inspiration? I know there’s not a lot to see here, but…” Jisung trails off.

“I work from noon until nine… And, I think the only spot available here may be the beach. It was the opposite way from my house.” Minho says, pointing behind them and staring at Jisungs now permanently reddened frostbitten cheeks. “I could… I could show you it? Later? After…” Minho stops himself. He may not be used to friendship, but something inside of him is making the words fall out of his mouth. He feels like he wants to stay a little closer to Jisung for as long as he can.

Jisung smiles and nods, “Sure man. I gotta go back to the house, I'm kind of freezing my ass off and I didn’t realize it was gonna be like, Antarctica out here. I stay up late so, knock on my door later, yeah?”

Minho nods and smiles back, opening the door slowly to be able to stay near Jisung for as many milliseconds as possible, until Jisung is walking away waving with his red cheeks scrunching up from his smile.

Minho is lost and confused again.

•·················•·················•

Minho's shift was as boring as it normally is, prompting his boss to tell him to close up early at seven pm. Usually, after returning home from work he would find something to read, and eat the snacks he picked up from the gas station, since his boss lets him take a few things for free anyways. Shortly after he might visit the beach, or lay in bed staring at the ceiling for a little while. He wonders why he can’t find it in himself to try and pick up any new hobbies, to look through the storage in the attic for something interesting, or even to check through his parents room for the first time since they died. Maybe, it’s the unknown part of it that scares him. He’s had the same routine his entire life, along with the same people. If he were to suddenly pick up something that his parents didn’t first become informed about, he might feel sick, like he's betraying them. His entire life he felt stagnant, like he was a boat in the middle of the ocean never moving forward or backwards, right or left. Like none of the supplies on the boat would ever disappear or run out. That the waves surrounding him would never leave and be replaced with water he’s never touched before. This is the first time he’s ever had to think about picking up something new, and he thinks that aside from their death, it was also Jisung that caused it. Jisung didn’t even talk about it that much in the short time they’ve known one another, but for some reason all day at work he hasn't been able to stop thinking about how Jisung said he was a musician. He wasn’t shocked, he normally doesn’t ever feel emotions that strong since he’s been stuck in the same daily loop with the same emotions for so long, but he did feel curious. He felt a strange itch under his skin telling him to ask Jisung more about his life, and why he became a musician. Or rather, what does a musician do? Does Jisung just play the guitar? He remembers that he mentioned something about needing inspiration, so does he write his own songs? Do people normally write their own music? And he mentioned his grandparents and mother once. What is it like having grandparents? Does his mom also like music like he does? Minho had a lot of thoughts, curious about the life of someone who has never touched the soil of his town until yesterday due to a fleeting visit. This led Minho to quickly go into his house, set his empty cup in the sink, and walk (quickly) towards his neighbors door. The house looked quite dark, but the black car was still sitting in the driveway, so he decided that Jisung definitely should be home. Minho stood in front of the door for a minute, cautious to start alerting Jisung that he had now arrived. It felt like what should be an every day or simply regular thing someone does in their life, such as knocking on someone's door and conversing with new people, felt ten times more daunting to him. Aside from the obvious fact of Minho not growing up with those things being a part of his life even monthly or yearly, he felt that when he thought about Jisung being the one to open the door, his heart started to beat just a little bit faster. But before he could continue overthinking, his hand had already started knocking lightly. He guessed maybe his body got tired of his brain taking too long, excited to get a glimpse of Jisung and the inside of his grandparents' old vacation home.

After a few seconds, no one came to the door, which caused Minho to tilt his head in confusion. He turned around to make sure he didn’t imagine the car in the driveway, which he didn’t upon further inspection, so he knocked four times again but louder. This time he heard a small commotion behind the door, and eventually it opened to reveal Jisung. Although, he didn’t look the way he looked earlier. His hair was messy, curls fluffed in opposite directions, and he wore sweatpants along with no shirt revealing the words ‘Blessed’ written across the left side of his chest. His eyes were blinking, slightly confused and half closed. As he opened the door and realized who was standing outside of it, his eyes lit up and the tiredness on his face seemed to quickly wash away.

“Minho! I’m sorry, I remembered you were coming but I was pretty tired still since I had a long drive here from the city, so I decided to take a short nap. I guess I didn’t wake up to my alarm, though.” Jisung started, hand nervously rubbing behind his own neck.

All Minho could do was stare and blink for the next fifteen seconds, gears turning in his head to comprehend everything he just saw, and was still looking at. A tattoo? He has never seen someone have a tattoo before. Didn’t they hurt? And isn’t getting a tattoo such a big commitment? Minho has had the exact same body basically his whole life, so the idea of changing something on it scared him. But aside from that, why did Jisung look kind of cute when he was tired and had messy hair?

“You’re staring again.” He says in response to Minho’s reaction.

Minho quickly looks up at Jisung’s face, his ears now burning in embarrassment.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

Jisung looks down at his own chest, glancing at the black ink.

“Oh this, yeah I got it recently. I was walking around town one night with Felix and we passed a tattoo shop. I had been thinking about getting one for a few months anyways, and he told me I should just do it. It honestly didn’t hurt that bad, you get used to it after a while.”

Felix? Who was Felix?

“Oh, Felix is my best friend. And my roommate back home. I’ve known him since we were in diapers.”

“Ahh..” Minho says nodding his head in response.

They stare at each other for a few seconds until Jisung smiles his wide heart shaped smile again.

“Would you like to come in? It’ll only take me a second to get dressed and then we can go.” He says, opening the front door wider and stepping to the side to allow Minho in the house.

Minho gets a little startled, but nods and quickly enters the home.

The first thing he notices is there is the scent of vanilla and cinnamon in the air. He also sees a wall of family photos at the center of the living room, above a large brown couch containing throw pillows with knitted images of cats on them. There’s a fluffy brown area rug under a coffee table, and to the left it leads into the kitchen, while to the right he can see stairs that lead up to two bedrooms. He’s hit with a lot of differences to his home. They had the constant smell of his mothers burnt orange and lemon candles, along with no family photos, since his parents never owned a camera and there was no one to show the pictures to or to be in them anyways. They owned one white couch that's peeling on the sides due to its age, along with a squeaky gray chair set across from it. Jisungs grandparents' home appeared to have more personality to it, although now he wonders if his home is the only one in existence that doesn’t, and that maybe everyone has cozier houses than he does.

“Ah, you see the photos?” Jisung notices, quickly turning to see what Minho is staring at.

Jisung goes up to the wall and grabs a few of them down, bringing them over to show Minho.

“These are my grandparents, when they were younger. That’s my mom sitting next to her two younger brothers and older sister. This one was more recent, it’s kind of obvious since that’s me when I was five. That’s my mom and dad, and my grandparents again, and…” Jisung scans the large framed photo attempting to identify the people in the large sea of faces captured.

“That is my older brother. The rest are my uncles, aunts, and cousins. I'm way more interesting than them so who cares anyways.” He says jokingly, turning to look at Minho.

Minho probably looks extremely shocked for the first time in all of the conversations they’ve had so far, causing Jisung to appear confused in response. Families this large exist? And they are all alive, and take family photos together? They hang them up even though no one even lives here to see them anyways? Do they take more recent ones and hang them where they currently live?

“I’m just not used to seeing such big families, and all in one photo together as well.” Minho starts, the shock evident in his voice.

Jisung returns a shocked look back.

“What? You don't have any photos with your parents and siblings? I mean, I know many people's grandparents pass away, but..” he responds.

Minho shakes his head while looking between Jisungs face and his tiny version on the large family portrait in his right hand. He’s definitely had the same cheeks since birth.

“Well, I don’t have any siblings, and… my grandparents died before I was born. My parents… they recently… passed away in June. And they were both only children. They never felt the need to take photos.”

Jisung gasps, quickly putting the photos on the stand next to the doorway.

“I’m so sorry, if I knew I wouldn’t have even asked dude.” he says apologetically.

“No, no. I’m okay with it, really. I find it quite interesting, seeing such a big family.” Minho continues, “Plus you were really cute as a kid.”

Jisungs ears burn in response similarly to how Minhos' did minutes before on the front porch.

“Ah… thank you… I should… I’m going to go get dressed. I’ll be right back.” Jisung stutters as he turns and quickly dashes up the stairs.

Minho smiles as he watches him disappear, choosing to walk around the living room a little bit until Jisung returns. He takes a peek into the bookshelves next to the television stand, seeing smaller photos of various family members, most likely taken at birthday parties and graduations. He notices in all of them, the entire family is almost always together. In a birthday photo of someone who appears to be Jisungs brother, you can see his parents behind him, smiling wide. Toddler Jisung sits in his dads arms, next to a table where five aunts and uncles and their children sit. His grandparents are sitting in the plastic chairs to the left, holding wrapped gifts in their hands. They all look so happy. Minho wonders how it feels to know so many people, to have conversations and relationships with different personalities your entire life. Of course it might get annoying he thinks, since he and his own parents didn’t normally have the most exciting life together either. But maybe, just maybe it would be nice to be able to talk to someone other than just two people for a while.

After five minutes of staring at the bookshelf, Minho hears steps thumping down the stairs.

“I’m ready, we can go now. I said this before but I seriously didn’t know it was going to be this cold here, so I really just have this jacket. Hopefully I won't die of hypothermia or something.” Jisung jokes, looking down at his own outfit.

“Do you… do you want my jacket? I’m honestly accustomed to the cold winters here so…” Minho says, avoiding eye contact.
Jisungs eyes widened in response. “You don’t have to. I really don’t want you to be cold just because you’re showing some random city boy a beach you know of.”

Minho looks up, and takes off his own jacket. Underneath he has a large knitted sweater on his mother once made, he knows he’ll be okay.

“Here, it would be better for you to have it. You don't want to… y'know catch a.. Cold or something.” he says, wrapping the jacket around Jisung’s thinly leather clad shoulders.

Jisung blushes, accepting the jacket and quickly opening the front door to lead them outside.

“So, how do you know of the beach? Well, obviously since you live here but like, it had to have seemed like a good spot for inspiration since you offered it up.” he starts as they walk down the driveway, taking a left towards the intended location.

“I’ve went to this beach my entire life. I usually come here when I need… a change of scenery. It’s a nice place to think. But… I can’t really swim so I just sit on the benches.” Minho admits.

Jisung lets out a light laugh. “I can’t swim either. That kinda sucks, I could've, like, taught you how to or something if I did. Well, not really since it’s winter. But I'm glad to know we're in the same boat here.”

Minho smiles as they approach the benches that sit in the sand close to the water.

“So you sit here? It does seem kind of inspiring. You know, the sound of the crashing waves is kind of inspiring.. Hold on a sec.” Jisung says, grabbing something out of his own coat pocket.

What he pulls out looks like a small book with a pen attached to it, and he quickly starts writing something inside of it.

“Oh, yeah this is where I write a lot of my lyrics. It has to be hand held so I take it with me anywhere. I usually sit in the parks and stuff to think when I'm in a writing block.”

Minho watches Jisung write for a while out of his peripheral vision. He tries not to stare at the words, but he can't help his curiosity. He can only make out words like, “rain” and “paper” before Jisung closes it again.

“Do you want to look at my other songs? I won't show you my current one, since it’s not done yet obviously, but I do have one in here I'll show you.”

Minho nods as Jisung looks through the pages, deciding what one he should show off, until he lets out a ‘this one’ and puts the page into Minho's face.

He takes the book from Jisungs hands, reading the lyrics. This song seems extremely sad, apparently about a couple who has fallen apart after dating for a while. The lyrics like “You were my universe” and “The memories and words we shared wash over me again” stuck out to Minho. He wonders briefly what it would be like to have to deal with something like that, being in love with somebody only to realize you no longer fit together. But in the first place he doesn't really know what it’s like to date someone in general, which makes it harder to understand.

“This one is, kind of sad. It isn’t based on experience or anything. I was watching this dating show, and I got really interested in one of the ex couples on it. Apparently they, like, dated for thirteen years and ended up breaking up. Shit was sad, man. Anyway, what did you think?” Jisung asks, closing the book.

“I liked it. I’ve… I’ve never dated anyone so, I don't really know what that would feel like. But, it.. seems to capture the sad emotions well. It was really good.” Minho explains, picking at the hem of his sweater. He wasn’t uninterested, just a bit shy to admit it out loud.

Jisungs eyes widened at that. “Wait. You’ve never dated anyone before?” he asked, obviously shocked at the new piece of information.

“Um… no. No, I've never dated anyone.” Minho says confused.

“Oh.. It’s just… It’s hard to believe since you look like that.”

Minho blinks, staring at Jisung for a few seconds. “What do you mean?” he asks, tilting his head.

Jisung blushes a bit, smiling slightly. “You’re really attractive. Like… your facial harmony is really good. Your features are really clear. It's like… eyes, nose, mouth.” he rambles, blush increasing on his cheeks while he uses his hands to explain his thought process.

It’s Minho's turn to blush, affected by Jisungs words. Of course his mother had told him he was handsome growing up, and his school teacher would always try to get him to talk to one of his classmates saying something like, ‘You’re very handsome, she definitely would like you if you tried.’ Obviously he never did that, since he didn’t care about her. He never really looked at himself, and he didn’t believe or not believe the people who told him he was attractive. He just didn't really care to think about it. But when Jisung said it to him, for some reason it felt different.

“Thanks…” Minho responded. He didn’t really know how to accept compliments.

“So, tell me about yourself. Since we're friends now.” Jisung says as he turns his entire body to face him, setting his right leg on the bench where it brushes against Minho's thigh.

“Hm.. I’m, not very interesting. I’ve already said I have no family, and haven’t… dated before.” Minho thinks, stumbling over the last two words. “Well… I’ve also never had any friends before. I’ve also never left this town before, until the day my parents died. I only left to go to the police station and came right back.” he finishes, yet still in thought to think of anything else that could be interesting. He comes up with nothing.

“You’ve never had any friends? Seriously?” Jisung gapes.

Minho shakes his head no in reply.

“How have you never left? Like you’re telling me you haven't even wanted to see what it looked like outside here before?” he continues.

“Well… My parents were really strict. They always told me that it’s not safe for me outside of here. I did think about maybe going to school eventually, but they told me I couldn’t ask again. So I didn’t.”

Jisung looks both confused and shocked, more than he has ever looked either of those emotions the past day they knew each other.

“Have you ever… wanted to leave?”

“I’ve had it pop up in my head before. But I didn’t want to upset my parents, so… I never considered it being a good thing to act on.” Minho replies.

“Are you happy here?” Jisung asks.

Minho turns to face Jisung at that question. He’s never considered that before. He's never felt overly happy about being here his entire life, but he just felt it was something he had to endure to stay safe.

“I… I don't know. I don’t think so.”

Jisung stares at Minho for a few seconds, looking at the slope of his nose, and the way his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“How old are you?” Jisung asks after a moment of silence.

“Twenty two. You?”

“I'm twenty. You know, I started college late.” he starts. “Obviously not, like, super late since I'm twenty. But I started a few months ago, I was nineteen but I turned twenty on September fourteenth, two weeks after my start date. I'm obviously going for music. Everyone says it’s a waste of college, that I'm going to just waste my time and money and end up poor. But I have something good going for me. I met these two guys last year who go to school with me too, we’re thinking of starting something together. I can feel that it’s all gonna work out. Sometimes you just have that feeling.” Jisung continues, “If you truly want to leave, I think you should. No offense, I'm not trying to intrude on this, but your parents no longer really have any say about what you do. You should do what you love.”

Minho thinks for a second. He doesn’t feel offended. Minho’s emotions and views his entire life were in the middle. He never loved or hated anything. He didn’t love his town, but he didn’t hate it, mostly because it was keeping him safe. He didn’t love having no friends, but he didn’t hate it since he had his parents for company anyways. He didn’t love being told that he was only safe here and could only be stuck here his whole life, but he didn’t hate it because he knew his parent’s just wanted the best for him. It seemed that anytime he didn’t love something, his parent’s quickly changed his thoughts. So that along with the fear of the unknown caused him to never find or figure out his true enjoyments and desires in life.

“I never considered anything else. My parent’s kind of had a set out plan for me, and I loved them so I went along with it. Even if I didn’t really want it. I still love them, I think. I don’t want to upset them if somehow they’re still able to look down on me.”

Jisung is silent for a few moments, staring at the details of his face again as Minho gazes at the water in the distance.

“Do you maybe want to come over and watch a movie?” Jisung asks.

Minho nods lightly in response, quickly letting out a ‘Ok’, so they stand and start heading towards the road.

They don't talk on the short walk to Jisungs grandparents house, occasionally bumping each other's shoulders on purpose, pushing back and forth as they step.

Jisung lets them in the house, taking off his coats consisting of his own and Minho's he still kept draped over his shoulders. He shuts the door, takes Minho's shoes to put them on the shoe rack, and leads him over to the couch.

“So, my grandparents haven’t been here in quite a while, so the movie selection they have is kind of shitty.” Jisung says, rummaging through a box of old dusty DVDs.

“I’ve never really seen many movies, so I’m fine with whatever.” Minho replies, which makes Jisung suddenly halt his search.

“Seriously? Have you never done anything?”

Minho thinks for a moment. “Not really. I mean, there's not a lot of available things to do here, and I could really only do what my parents let me. They didn’t watch our television at all, they normally read and baked.”

“Do you know how to bake? Or cook?” Jisung asks.

“Well… I don’t know how to do that either. She never taught me how. It looked interesting, but whenever I'd try to help she would warn me that the oven was too dangerous, or just push me out of the kitchen. So no.”

That makes Jisung silently turn around and start digging through the box again. After a few seconds of what seemed to be him thinking, he chirps up, “We should make cookies. You know, winter time is a great time to bake.”

Minho imagines it. He does remember his mother producing more batches of baked goods when it started to get cold out, and it does seem fun in a way. But he’s never done it before. He's not used to that.

“I don't know, what if I… accidentally set your house on fire?”

That makes Jisung let out another one of his loud, deep laughs. He halts his hands inside the box and falls on his back while giggling and looking over to Minho, which makes Minho laugh too.

“I'm sorry… I don’t know why that was so funny.” he says, pulling himself up off the floor after a full minute of them laughing.

“It’s fine… I just, I’m not used to going out of my comfort zone, you know.” Minho says as he takes a deep breath to regain his composure.

“That's fine, too. I can help you out with anything you need.”

“Why?” Minho questions, wondering why he would suddenly do things for Minho. Didn’t they just meet? Wasn’t he here on the premise of finding inspiration for his music?

“We're friends, aren't we? And friends help each other out.” Jisung replies.

“What would I have to do for you?”

“Nothing. I think you’ve already helped me quite a bit. You know, Before the beach I hadn’t opened my writing book for a few weeks. I couldn’t think of a single thing. Think of this being my way to repay you.”

Minho nods. He feels a warmth inside his chest as he watches Jisung smile and calm down from their previous fit of laughter.

They stare at each other for ten seconds until Jisung quickly picks up a movie he dropped next to the box, showing the cover to Minho.

“This looks like one of the only good ones. Are you into ghibli movies?” he asks Minho.

“Ghibli?” Minho questions.

“Alright. I’ll take that as a no? This one is called Spirited Away. It’s pretty cool.” Jisung says as he sticks it into the DVD player, grabbing the remote and sitting on the couch next to Minho.

They sit a distance away from each other, but after twenty minutes of them watching the movie Minho notices their legs have somehow become flush against each other, currently unnoticed by Jisung. He doesn’t know why any sort of touch from Jisung sends his heart racing, and sets his skin on fire. He’s hugged people before, even during his graduation when he had to hug his classmates who were heading off to college as a final goodbye. Even then he didn’t feel like they left an imprint in the shape of them burned into Minho after they pulled away.

“This part is really cool- wait are you watching?” Jisung turns to see what Minho is concentrating on, trailing his line of sight to see their legs conjoined together.

“Oh I'm sorry man, I didn't even notice.” Jisung says, quickly pulling his leg to the side.

Minho feels sad at the loss of contact. He doesn't know why. He's confused again.

•·················•·················•

The next morning, Minho wakes up with an ache in his neck, and he also has no idea where he is. Upon becoming more awake and aware of his surroundings, he remembers he's on Jisungs grandparents couch, in their house. This is the first time he’s never slept in his own bedroom. To his left is still Jisung, and the TV has been playing the startup screen of the movie for probably hours at this point. The birds are chirping outside, and after a few minutes he realizes that the weight on his shoulder and the feeling in his neck is because Jisung currently has his head resting on Minho's left shoulder. Minho moves his own head a little forward to see Jisung’s face, and sees his mouth open, with his cheeks puffed up as he scrunches his eyes a bit in his sleep. Minho’s heart does the thing again. He’s getting used to this feeling happening around Jisung now. Although, he doesn’t know what it's supposed to mean.

“You’re awake before me?” Jisung says, startling Minho who didn’t realize he already opened his eyes as he was too busy staring at the way Jisung’s cheek rested against his shoulder.

“I feel like I might normally be awake before you. Didn’t I intrude upon your nap yesterday?” Minho says softly.

“Nooooo… No you didn’t, remember I said I had a long drive.” Jisung exclaims, lifting his head off of Minho's shoulder and stretching his arms upwards.

Minho deflates a bit at the loss of contact, but watches him fondly, staring at the way his hair sticks up and the way the indent of Minho's jeans shows on his legs. They must have accidentally pushed their legs together again sometime when they were asleep.

“Do you work today?” Jisung asks curiously.

“Um, no. But the gas station isn’t usually overrun with customers anyways, so.” Minho replies.

“Do you want to make those cookies today? I was thinking chocolate chip, but if you have a different preference that’s okay too. But please don’t choose like, oatmeal raisin or something. I can not stand raisins.”

Minho smiles in amusement, shaking his head. “Chocolate is fine, I'm not that picky.”

“Okay!” Jisung says, shooting up to run into the kitchen.

Minho blinks at the quick and sudden departure, slowly getting up to follow him.

“So, my grandparents definitely don't own any ingredients considering they haven't been here in a million years. But I guess they seem to have the equipment at least, which is good since I am definitely not going to buy new bowls or spatulas with my own money.” He says while looking through the cupboards.

“I actually… There's ingredients at my house.” Minho offers. “I said my mom used to bake, and I haven't really used any of her things, so.”

“How do you even eat then?” Jisung questions.

“Uh… I usually… Just buy microwaved things or stuff you can put in the oven. My boss told me how to do it.” Minho says, scratching his neck awkwardly.

Jisung stares at him. “You are so interesting, you know that right?”

Minho just laughs in response, walking away to grab their coats.

Inside of Minho’s house, he allows Jisung to grab the things considering he doesn’t really know what they need. He doesn’t comment on the inside much, considering there's not much to say about a boring house with an old white couch and no family photos. Eventually they make their way back to Jisungs, getting the ingredients prepared as he instructs Minho on what to grab and where to place it. In a way, he feels like a child again.

“You’re making me feel like a child. Not in a bad way, it just feels like you’re my mother or something.” Minho jokes as he listens to Jisung explain the measurements of the flour and sugar.

Jisung laughs lightly and says, “Really?” before he grabs his fingers and tickles them under Minho's chin while pouting at him.

This makes Minho freeze and stare at Jisung while he doubles over in laughter.

“The look on your face right now is priceless.” he says in between breaths.

Minho shakes his head in amusement, turning around to grab the correct amount of flour out of the container.

After Jisung calms down, he looks over Minho's shoulder, watching as he pours in the ingredients he was instructed. He can feel Jisungs breath tickling his ear, causing goosebumps to rise and prickle on his skin. Jisung seems to be unaware of any of his reactions, letting out a quiet ‘you’re doing great.’

Minho finishes his task after nearly dropping the spoon, and Jisung backs away to grab the liquid ingredients he already prepared minutes before.

“Okay now, you have to pour this in slowly and mix slowly, like this.” Jisung instructs, standing back behind him again and placing the whisk into Minho's hand. He places his hand right on top of Minhos, while holding the bowl with the wet ingredients in his left hand. Jisung slowly pours in the left hand bowl, while gripping Minho's hand to stir it. Minho feels lightheaded for some reason.

“And you’re done! Well, we still have to put in the chocolate and place them on the tray, but the ‘hard’ part is over. That wasn't so hard, was it?” Jisung asks as he backs away again.

Minho takes a second to clear his throat before giving an ‘mhm’ and turning to grab the chocolate chips. What the hell?

•·················•·················•

Jisung arrived into town on a Wednesday at the end of November. Although he was in college, he was taking a short break from taking any next classes so he could do his inspiration gathering, hence why he was staying indefinitely. Over the course of the weeks of December, he and Minho met regularly. Either to take a short walk to the beach and talk about their current and past lives, or just to watch one of the fifteen movies his grandparents had in their collection. One time, Jisung convinced Minho to go back to the trail he twisted his ankle on years prior, leading to Minho almost twisting his ankle again as he had forgotten where the log was located on the path. Jisung found it amusing for a few seconds, and then babied him while wrapping his arm around his shoulder to help him sit down and assess the damage. There wasn’t any. Keyword, ‘almost’, but that didn’t stop Jisung from leaving a small peck on his ankle after he found no damage.

As it reached the end of the year, only happening in the next two days, Jisung became curious about what Minho did during that time.

“We don’t do anything. I think I heard our neighbors celebrating a few times, but my parents said it was too dangerous. So…” Minho recalls as they sat outside in Jisungs backyard, watching the night sky. They laid on a blanket in the grass, as the rain and slightly warmer temperature the day before had caused the snow to melt.

“Well, normally people party and get drunk during the new year. I’m not much of a drinker, but Felix, Chan and Changbin kind of are, sometimes. So if they’re attending a party or something I tag along.” Jisung explains.

“My parents never drank alcohol either.” Minho states plainly.

This makes Jisung turn on his side, resting his head on top of his hand to gaze at Minho.

“What about you, for once? Can I hear about you? I don't want to hear about what your parent’s liked or didn’t like. What are your likes and dislikes?”

Minho thinks for a moment to gather the few things he has been able to enjoy. “Well, I normally read. And go to the beach. That's… That’s literally it.”

“Do you like it? Do you like reading?”

“Not really. I mean, of course I can read if I have to. I don't enjoy the stories so much that I want to keep doing it all day every day, but it was also the thing I always had the easiest access to.” Minho says, hands clasped together on his stomach as he avoids Jisungs eyes.

“Have you ever danced before?” Jisung randomly questions.

This makes Minho turn to finally catch Jisungs eye.

“No… Why?”

“It’s fun. Do you want to try to dance together?” Jisung asks.

Minho now suddenly has been forced to think of something he attempted to push away when he was young.

Once, when Minho was eleven, he had found a movie in his dads library. The plot didn’t really seem all that interesting, but he didn’t have a great selection to pick from anyways. It was boring, until they started dancing. It was the first time that he had felt such interest inside of him for something new like that before, especially since he didn’t get to see many new things anyways. He loved the way the actors on screen moved, the way they explained the choreography during the parts of the main character working in a dance studio. It was the first time he found out that people can dance, and go places where they meet other dancers. They can become professionals out of it. At the end of the movie, the main character got together with the lead guy who was her dance partner, and they ended up becoming a professional duo, known across the country and even wider. That made something inside of Minho feel a way he has never felt before. So after watching the movie, he tried copying a few moves he saw that the actors did in their performance. He was actually enjoying it, and having fun. Until his father walked in the living room, and immediately turned off the TV. He was scolded, since apparently dancing can be dangerous. His mother overheard, and they yelled about, "What if you break your leg?” “What if you fall and hurt yourself?” and ten other things they could come up with off the top of their heads as to why it would be so dangerous to attempt for even a second in the comfort of his own home. After that, they threw away the movie somewhere to make sure he didn’t try to learn any more of the moves, or get any more inspiration out of the film. Eventually, due to the pressure of their watchful eyes and not wanting to cause them unnecessary stress, Minho gave up on his short-lived idea. It was around that time that he picked up reading more often, maybe because his parents couldn’t nag on the details of those stories since they couldn't see them.

“I don't know.” Minho replies.

“Don’t tell me this is something to do with your parents again. Remember what I said earlier? Like, try to do things for you. I want to see what you might love to do. Not them.” Jisung says, already on his feet and holding out his hand for Minho to grab.

Minho sighed, staring at his feet for a few moments until he grabbed Jisungs hand to pull himself up.

“Here grab my hand, and put your left one on my shoulder.” Jisung said, mirroring except putting his right hand on Minho's waist. “Just like, follow my lead. I'm not some professional dancer so don't expect much.”

Jisung slowly swayed them, moving their feet right and left, backwards and forwards, to get Minho into the rhythm of it.

“Is this hard, you think? Since you’ve never danced?” Jisung asks as he keeps swaying them back and forth, but no longer stepping out of their current position.

“No. It seems pretty easy to get the hang of.” Minho replies, letting out a deep breath.

They stay like that for a few seconds, until Minho makes the grave mistake to stop looking at their feet and to instead glance up at Jisung, to see him already staring back at him.

“Can I say something?” Jisung whispers quietly, right hand still on Minho’s waist.

Minho nods in response as they both still maintain eye contact. For some reason, it isn’t uncomfortably silent and long like the last time.

“For some reason, I keep having the urge that I want to kiss you.” Jisung says.

Minho doesn’t get startled. He doesn’t look shocked. No emotion on his face changes. Because he’s had the same feeling in his mind for a while now. He may even argue that he’s wanted to kiss Jisung since the day they met in the gas station. He doesn’t know why. He’s never felt that way before for anybody. He thinks, maybe that's why. If you don’t know what something feels like, you’re not going to know when it’s finally happening to you. Jisung admitting it out loud caused Minho to put two and two of his own feelings together almost immediately. It feels like somehow, they were meant to meet each other. Isn’t it odd? How Jisung had to find his inspiration at a time, in a place, directly where Minho was? Is this what they called fate? Minho read a book once that included bits of fate between the different main characters. Minho thinks its fate.

“Can I? Can I kiss you?” Jisung whispers again, afraid that if he says it too loud it might scare Minho off. But for some reason, nothing ever scares Minho off when it comes to Jisung. He does things he never would have thought to do without Jisung by his side.

Minho decides he should try to speak this time, clearing his throat only to let out an even quieter, ‘Yeah’ in response.

As Jisung leans in, Minho realizes he has no idea what to do. But since Minho never gets scared with Jisung, he doesnt pull back or warn him. He thinks Jisung would understand him no matter what he did. Minho could choose to randomly shave his own head and go on a road trip the next day and he knows Jisung would be right next to him, encouraging him and not even questioning why.

Minho read once in a romance book that when you kiss somebody you’re completely in love with, you feel fireworks and sparks. Minho may not have felt an explosion, but he felt something even deeper than that, something that meant more to Minho when it came to Jisung. He felt the strange deep feeling of comfort and home. He felt his heart beat so intensely that he's convinced it was trying to leap out of his chest to become one with Jisungs.

As he moved to cup Jisungs face in his hands, the urge to hold his puffy cheeks for the first time too overwhelming, Jisung pulled Minho in by his waist, resting both hands on his back. They kissed for what felt like hours, but was probably about ten seconds. Yet even after that, everytime one of them pulled away, the other would lean back in. They kept this up until Minho was entirely out of breath and felt like he was going to pass out, both from the lack of oxygen and kissing Jisung for the first time.

When he pulled back, they just stared at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter again, like they always seem to do when the situation is amusing.

“I thought you were never going to actually kiss me. I was afraid I’d end up leaving one day, and you’d just be stuck here forever and I would spend the rest of my life regretting it. But I didn’t want to just kiss you without asking, because like, I know you’ve never dated anybody, but also I wasn’t sure how your parents decided to speak about boys kissing each other y’know.” Jisung says, letting out the last sentence in one quick breath.

Minho smiles while looking at the details on Jisungs face for the nth time.

“They never brought that up, so if they had an issue, I wouldn’t know. Honestly, I think they hated the idea of me dating anyone in general since it might be an issue ‘safety wise’, as they would say.” Minho replies.

That causes Jisung to tilt his head, with a smirk slowly appearing on his face. “Okay, so we're dating now?” He asks in amusement.

The realization of what he said dawned on Minho's face, causing him to be the one to quickly let out an explanation.

“Well, not if.. Not if you didn't want to… Sorry I shouldn’t have assumed. I just thought becau-”

“Minho. It’s okay. I think if I were to leave here without ever asking you to date me, or at least eventually, I might have died with a million regrets.”

They both decide to fold up the blanket and go inside, since the temperature was dropping as it neared towards midnight.

As they sat on the couch together, under a blanket, watching a random low budget animated movie, Minho decided to speak up about something he had been ruminating on for a little while.

“Can you pause the movie really quickly?” Minho asked, nervously picking at the skin on his nails.

Jisung glanced over, and immediately paused it upon seeing his nervous state. “Yeah, what's up? Are you okay?”

Minho took a deep breath before finally admitting something.

“I think… I’ve been debating this for a long time now. I mean, as I've said, I once debated it when I was in highschool as well. But… I feel like. I might want to leave. Leave town.” He explains.

Jisungs eyes widened in response. “Really? Seriously? Why so suddenly?”

Minho glanced at the floor to gather his thoughts for a moment.

“Well… I’ve considered what you said before. How everything I did, or brought up, was because of my parents. I had never even realized. I think I was taught to spend so much of my life with an average ‘this is just how it is’ view on things, that I never realized that my life was actually extremely isolated.” he continued, “For the first time in my life last week, I gathered up the courage to go in the attic of our house. I had never been in there before, not that I was allowed in the first place. Anyways, I ended up finding family photos from my parents' childhood.” he exclaimed.

Jisung listened intently, not trying to stop his obvious thought out explanation.

“Thankfully there was writing on the back that said who was in the photos. I found out that my Mother had grown up with a single mother, and my Father had both parents, which are the grandparents who my Mother claimed grew up and lived here. After looking through documents they had, I found out that none of it was even true. Apparently my parents must have abandoned both of their parents at some point when they were going to have me, proof written in the hundreds of letters I saw they received from their families. They were all begging my parents to explain, since they left without any explanation other than, ‘you won't see us again.’” Minho took a deep breath to regain his composure. “I would assume they died by now, they looked old in the photographs I found. But, they said my parents had some extreme fears of danger, for whatever reason. They never stated why exactly, but I'm assuming they had extreme paranoia. I guess, in a way, they did truly want to keep me safe. But I believe most of it was irrational.”

Jisung nodded in understanding, resting his own hand on top of Minhos.

“That makes sense.” Jisung stared at Minho for a second before continuing. “I don't want to say something that could upset you, but I… do want to say your decision is a really good one.” he says, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Minho's face.

It’s silent for a moment, before Jisung continues.

“I… I don’t know if this idea was going to be selfish of me since I decided it before you even told me about this, but… I was contemplating that before I left I was going to invite you along. Just in case. As like, a last chance type of thing to see if I knew that I was really going to have to lose you for good or not.”

Minho blinks for a few seconds.

“I never asked… How far do you live?”

Jisung takes in a big breath at that question.

“I live so far that it took me like, three full days of driving to get here. I got here in the middle of the fourth day. That also does not include me pulling off to pass out in a random parking lot. I could’ve done plane, but you guys have no airport obviously, and I did not feel like renting a car that I'd have to drive a few hours here anyways.”

That makes Minho gasp for the first time in shock.

“Really? Are we seriously in the middle of nowhere out here?” he questions curiously.

Jisung nods what would seem like a hundred times in five seconds.

“Yes! Oh my god. When I got to my third day, I started only being able to see woods and forests. I was scared shitless, I thought I was going to get murdered if I pulled off to sleep.” he says loudly.

That makes Minho giggle in response, pointing at Jisungs face when he narrows his eyes in fake offense at Minho's reaction.

“See, that’s why I thought I'd never see you again. Because, I basically wouldn't. Even if my grandparents magically moved back here, or sold their house, I’d never have the time again to travel this far for one house they bought back when they were in their twenties.”

Minho unexpectedly leans in to kiss Jisungs cheek, and before Jisung has the time to gasp in shock, Minho starts speaking again.

“Do you think we're soulmates? That we were meant to be? That we were fated to meet?”

Jisung smiles slightly, glancing at the floor.

“I don't think we're soulmates, that sounds too grand-” he says before returning to see a deadpan scowl across Minho's features. He quickly backtracks his sentence.

“Ah yes. Yeah, it was fate.”

•·················•·················•

Two years later, Minho has been enrolled in college for a year. He is now an English major, minoring in dance. He considered that, since he likes reading enough, it would be better and more useful as a major. On the side, he’s recently gotten into taking dance classes that aren’t included in his minor or his college. He finds enjoyment in learning the different styles, conversing with the other people in his class and being able to meet new people with different personalities constantly. He also especially likes having conversations with the dance instructor. It planted the idea in him of maybe, eventually, becoming a choreographer himself. He thinks he’d enjoy that very much.

He lives with Jisung, together in an apartment near the college they both attend. Jisung normally works in the studio with his friend’s Chan and Changbin, who Minho has also been introduced to and made friends with. Minho did try to get his own place when they arrived, admitting that he didn’t want to burden Jisung and force his best friend Felix out. That was quickly shot down by both Jisung and Felix, as Felix said he was already planning on moving in with his boyfriend, Hyunjin, but just wasn’t sure if he could find another roommate for Jisung before Minho surprisingly came along to fill the spot. Felix and Hyunjin were also dancers, although Felix majored in it while Hyunjin majored in art. They’ve been able to help Minho in learning things he didn’t quite understand yet, and he thinks they’re the best people he ever could have had the chance to meet.

When they had arrived, after a long car trip back full of Minho in awe of the changing scenery and highways and listening to Jisungs music, Minho stayed in Jisungs room until Felix was officially moved out. Their meeting was great, as they immediately hit it off from the start. Everyone was normally drawn to Felix's natural radiant energy anyways, so it went as expected. Jisung did inform his friends about Minho's life to make them more understanding, with the permission of Minho himself. He wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed, he did still hold love for his parents. He understands they may have done things they truly thought were the best choice, when they actually weren't. But in his new life where he met new people nearly every day, they did tend to notice when he acted or treated something differently. Having to explain why he hasn't heard of or seen a single ‘classic’ movie, or especially why he never started dancing until he was much older was a bit tiring to continue doing, so he allowed Jisung to just lay it all out for them.

Before leaving, he ended up finally having a normal conversation with the owner of his local grocery store a month after he and Jisung had the talk. He told the owner about how he was leaving town in the next few days, forever, and was doing so against his parents long time wishes. Oddly enough, the grocery store owner appeared to have known a lot about him and his parents. He explained how his mother had always appeared to just be a little too overprotective of him, and that he knew one day Minho was going to want to see things for himself. He applauded Minho, assuring him that he would take over the house and watch over his parents' belongings.

He was so thankful for Jisung. If Jisung had never arrived, he would still be in his parents house, reading the same few books he could find at work, and in shame of even entertaining any thoughts of leaving against his parents wishes. He believes the reason he decided to go into the attic that day was due to Jisung. Jisung even brought up the idea once of taking him to meet his family, saying how he thinks ‘they would enjoy meeting you very much.’ The entire time Jisung was there, he made Minho want to see things. New things. New people. Felix, Changbin, Chan, and Jisung’s entire family. He never purposefully tried or pushed Minho to, especially if he didn’t want to, but just the mere presence of Jisung made Minho feel like he could suddenly do everything he's never even considered doing before.

This was proven again two months after they arrived to Jisungs. Jisung told Minho how he always wanted a cat, and asked Minho if he ever owned any pets. Minho of course told him no, too much of a danger if they attack you or something, (again, the words of his parents) but that he personally always found cats interesting, although he had never met one before. That led Jisung to take him to his favorite cat cafe, with the visit being Minho's first time meeting a cat, and going into a cafe. He tried iced americano for the first time, and had some of Jisungs cheesecake. But when they originally walked in, the cats seemed drawn to Minho. He had to ask Jisung how to pet them, and what the things they did meant, but he caught on fairly quickly. Not that he had a chance to think about it much, as four of the cats immediately began rubbing on Minho's pant legs and jumping on his lap as he sat down. Jisung found it incredibly endearing, pulling out a camera from his bag to snap a few photos. And after this, as they exited the cafe with newly cat fur filled sweaters, Minho asked enthusiastically, “Do you think we could get a cat?”

This made Jisung laugh, as Minho asked the question before the cafe door could even close properly.

“Really? You want a cat?” he affirmed, looking at Minho lovingly.

Minho nodded as he glanced back at the windows, watching the cats he left behind lay perched on a large cat tree, looking out the glass into the city.

“Alright. Sure, we can have a cat eventually.” Jisung nodded back.

Eventually translates into ‘the next few weeks’, as by the start of the coming month, they had an orange and white cat named Soonie. Minho named him, because he says Soonie is ‘soft and gentle.’

•·················•·················•

A year after Minho arrived, he and Jisung were laying in bed together, watching a movie Jisung said is apparently currently popular. Jisung suddenly stopped the movie, holding his pointer finger out to halt Minho from asking any questions. He leaned under the bed, and pulled out his non-work laptop that he keeps his old and unfinished songs on. As he started typing away, Minho got overrun with curiosity and leaned up to watch the screen, but Jisung turned away so he couldn't see.

“One second! It’s a surprise.” Jisung said quickly.

“And the surprise is supposed to be when we're in the middle of a movie?” Minho asks, jokingly rolling his eyes and smiling.

“I'm sorry. I got home from the studio and we started watching this right after so, I forgot. Please don't attack me, I will provide you with your ransom money soon.” Jisung said while quickly typing something into the keyboard.

Minho just shook his head in disbelief, resting his chin on his palm and watching as the white computer screen lit up Jisungs face. He never got tired of counting the amount of eyelashes he has, or watching the way his top lip gets tinier when he smiles or speaks and makes him look even more like the woodland animal he first compared Jisung to. He doesn’t think he could ever get tired of Jisung.

“Okay here. This is it.”

Jisung moved back to his original spot to the right of Minho, putting the laptop on both of their thighs so he could properly see this time.

“So, obviously the entire reason I went to my grandparents house was to get inspiration for music. Well, remember the first time we went to the beach, and I wrote those lyrics down?” he asks Minho while pointing at the blank screen.

Minho nods, wondering how he could ever forget their very first outing together.

“I wrote a lot behind your back when I was there. Not on purpose, but it was because I couldn't think straight anymore after that day if I tried to write anything while you were there, next to me. I mean, considering the contents of the song, I felt like you were gonna notice and get scared because you made a connection about it being about you. Anyways, I finished the song recently. As in, three months ago. I just got scared to show you. I don't know why. It felt too soon. But since our one year is soon, I thought I should finally show it to you.” Jisung rambled as he clicked on the file and paused it so it didn’t play through his explanation.

“Well, I’ll just play it for you. Enough discussion.” he said, as he moved the mouse to light up the screen again and hit the play button.

“I'll protect you it's okay to hurt
I'll embrace the wounds you shed
To me, you're already a sin
You're already a sin”

“I can't live without you you're the only one, even if I die
Even if I'm reborn over and over again, it's only you
I want to give only to you my heart is burning
When I'm thinking of you, my mind is like a volcano”

“So I can melt into you
Hug my body even if it hurts, it's okay
Among the cold and harsh waves
I need your heat you are my volcano”

As the song finished, Minho felt everything from the past year and before replay in his head. The lyrics made him tear up throughout the entire three and a half minutes. Jisung didn’t notice until it ended, quickly turning to see Minho with a few tears down his cheeks.

“Are you okay, Jagi?” Jisung asked, wrapping his arms around Minho's waist.

Minho nodded, “Sorry. I don't even know why I’m crying. I don't think I've ever cried to music before. I don't know. Maybe it’s because this song is different.” he said while leaning his head back to stop the flow from continuing.

“It's alright. Everyone cries to music sometimes. Especially if it resonates with you. I hoped it would resonate with you, since it’s about you, and all.” He said while soothingly rubbing his hand up and down Minho’s back.

Minho finally stopped crying, turning to smile at Jisung and kiss him.

“I loved it. Thank you. You’re the best, Thank you. Seriously.” Minho says after they turned off the TV and laid on their sides facing each other. “You know, I don't think I feel as confused anymore since I've been with you.” he continues.

Jisung scoots closer, caressing Minho's cheek in his right hand. Minho can faintly see him smiling through the moonlight that peeks through the open curtain.

“I'm glad you’re figuring out how to live. And you don't have to thank me, I always say that we helped each other.” Jisung quietly whispers, watching as Minho's eyes grow heavier.

“But I do. Because you’re my soulmate. It was fate, remember?” Minho says, trailing off at the end as he finally succumbs to sleep.

Jisung nods, even though Minho can no longer see him. “Yes we are. I remember.”