Chapter Text
It’s currently 2 am, and Jisung has shown no signs of falling asleep any time soon.
He’s just finished his second wildlife documentary and has now found himself doom-scrolling.
It has been a while since he’s checked out what Stays were up to and about, so he decides to hop onto Twitter. Jisung always found it interesting how fans shared ideas, built friendships, and created entire communities around them. It was genuinely heartwarming to him and one of the reasons he loves being an idol.
He laughs at Stays' memes, awes at the fan art, and even watches a few fan cams of himself. Hey, he looks good. Really good. And judging by the comments, Stay agrees.
Of course he comes across a couple of hate tweets either about himself or the other members but quickly scrolls right past them. He wasn’t going to let their negative opinions affect his night right now, or, well, morning, technically.
Eventually, he manages to somehow find himself on the Minsung side of Twitter. He is very familiar with this side, his feed sometimes showcasing clips of him and Minho being their silly selves on stage or livestreams side by side, laughing, teasing, and doing whatever ridiculous things they just so happened to be doing that day. Minho would do something weird, and Jisung would follow. Always off in their own little world, hopping easily from one conversation to another, almost impossible for anyone else outside to understand.
He was also familiar with this side of Twitter because the other members always love to send him silly edits of them, along with all the dramatic captions and romantic music that would play in the background. In response, Jisung would often gag in disgust, and Minho would then chase him around for it, demanding an apology and then putting him in a headlock, ruffling his hair until Jisung finally begged for mercy.
A particular tweet catches his eye:
“This video actually made me believe Minsung is real. Shoutout to Yongbokis Sausage!”
Attached is a YouTube link.
Intrigued, Jisung clicks on it.
“THE STORY OF MINSUNG 2017-2022” It was titled.
He squints at the video length again, just to make sure his sleep-deprived brain isn't actually playing tricks on him.
Nope, the video is actually three hours long.
He laughs softly, “Who has the time...” but his thumb taps the screen anyway.
The video starts off with a clip of Felix singing “Boxer,” followed by a disclaimer encouraging respect and open-mindedness, earning a point from Jisung.
Personally, he didn't really mind people shipping him with his best friend as long as they were respectful about it. He never really understood why some got so offended by it. After all, it was harmless fun, and it clearly brought joy to many people. He loved seeing all the little Han Quokkas and Leebits together, side by side, in the crowd.
The video begins with dramatic orchestral music, because of course it does— and an old video of him talking to Stay in one of his live streams about how he had first met Minho. Jisung cringes a bit at his fried blond hair but still continues to watch.
He still stands by what he said-Minho is incredibly handsome, and that was the first thing he noticed about him when they had first met as trainees. He learned quickly that what he was feeling wasn't jealousy, because how could someone be that talented and good-looking?-but instead admiration. He was eye-catching, especially when he danced, and Jisung admired his work drive, accepting him quickly as an equal rather than a rival.
Even with Jisung’s rather rude introduction and countless glares, Minho still volunteered to help him improve his dancing skills, offering tips and never losing his patience with him. He also never once acted like he was better than him or the other members, even though he so obviously was. They eventually grew closer, became fast friends, and now look at them.
He watches as the video dives into clips from their pre-debut era. Their awkward smiles, shy glances, and occasional accidental hand touches were slowed down to 0.25x speed and zoomed in for maximum effect.
Jisung cringes. He prefers not to think of the survival show days, where none of them could sleep at night, fearful of elimination. Everyone was constantly on edge and emotions were at an all-time high back then, where fights were common and tears were often shed. But they all made it through in the end.
He keeps watching. The documentary (if you could call it that) is weirdly compelling. The creator clearly put so much love and effort into this; each scene shown was highlighted with captions commenting every few seconds or so, analyzing their facial expressions, body language, and prolonged staring.
They even noted down all of Jisung’s nervous tics. H wasn't sure how he felt about that.
After showcasing a few scenes played from their live streams after their first debut, the caption reads:
“I feel like they already felt like something was different. They realized the touches of the other felt different from the other members.”
It's not entirely inaccurate, but Minho has just always been different to him. Their connection was easy, almost natural. They were Soulmates, attached to the hip and matched each other’s energy in a way no one else quite did. They had a lot in common and they were super comfortable around each other. That’s all.
…Right?
Because seriously, did Minho always look at him like that?
His gaze looked overly fond with the corner of his lip turned upwards, but there was something else in his eyes too, something Jisung couldn't quite name.
He hadn’t realized how often Minho’s eyes lingered on him. Not just the occasional casual glance they both shared, but he looked at him like he was the only person in the room, even when Jisung was busy talking with another member, not paying him any mind.
But Jisung wasn’t exactly any better either.
Seeing himself through someone else’s lens, he understood now what Chan meant when he joked about Jisung’s “angry pout.” He could see it in the way he looked at Minho back then, all wide-eyed and soft, craving for attention.
And Minho was the member most willing to give him the attention he craved for.
Matter of fact, he was almost always paying attention to him; the video made that clear. He would never admit to how much he liked the thought of Minho’s eyes always remaining on him.
The deeper he fell into the video, the more things began to click into place. Moments that once felt small and insignificant, brushed off without a second thought; the things that Minho has done for only him.
Like how Minho always hands him his water bottle before he even has the chance to ask, making sure he stays hydrated during practice.
How he invites Jisung out to eat way more often than anyone else. Just the two of them, scolding him for his manners and then feeding him bites of food. Jisung had no clue that Minho even liked spicy food until Jeongin told him, because they were always ordering food to share together, and Jisung couldn't handle spicy food.
How his casual touches were always there for him, and they gave him a source of comfort.
Jisung could rely on the fact that if he turned around, Minho would be right there behind him, and he liked that. He wants Minho’s eyes to be on him. Only him. He likes that when he does something silly, Minho softly giggles in return, his happiness contagious.
How photos of Jisung take up most of Minho’s phone gallery (along with his cats) and photos of Minho take up his. For fuck’s sake, Minho’s cats are currently his wallpaper on his phone.
The other members have always told him that Minho gives him special treatment, and the way Changbin looked at them sometimes in old clips... well he gave them a look. Half teasing, half knowing. Like he’d figured something out before they had.
Jisung makes a mental note to ask him about it later as he slowly drifts off to sleep, the overly dramatic piano music still playing in the background.
He dreams of Minho’s soft smile and overly fond gaze, and his heart flutters for some reason.
Sleep-deprived and an iced Americano in hand, Jisung reluctantly drags himself other to the recording studio.
Chan and Changbin were already waiting inside, the two of them discussing some layering issues in the chorus, both glancing up from their work as he walks in.
“Morning,” Chan nods, eyes crinkling, as he takes in Jisung’s unruly appearance. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks, hyung.” Jisung mutters, flopping onto the couch. “That’s exactly the look I was going for.”
Changbin snorts, “Did you even sleep at all?”
Jisung sighs and then takes a long, dramatic sip of his iced coffee.
He obviously couldn’t just answer with, “I couldn’t sleep, so I then watched a fan-made analysis video that made me question everything about Minho and me.” That would sound insanely weird.
Because now, after the video, how is he supposed to not think about every meaningful glance, every tiny gesture, and every way Minho has been quietly choosing him over and over again without Jisung even realizing?
The door swings open as Minho strolls in, black cap low over his forehead, iced coffee in one hand, and an annoyingly perfect post-shower glow on his face.
Their eyes meet for half a second, and Minho gives him a soft smile.
Jisung short-circuits.
Minho settles into the chair next to Chan, casually leaning over to peek at the screen. Chan’s voice is low as he starts talking to him about re-recording a few lines, but Jisung barely listens. He’s too busy pretending not to stare.
Now he can’t unsee it. That smile Minho just gave him? He could see how that would be the kind of stuff that fan editors would live for. The moment would be slowed down to capture his fond gaze, while highlighting the lifted corners of Minho’s soft lips, and then overanalyzed for another 30 minutes, maybe even adding some sparkles for good measure.
Okay, this documentary was seriously messing with his head.
He sips his coffee a little too aggressively, eyes flicking over to Changbin, who is, of course, watching him with an annoyingly smug look on his face.
Jisung suddenly remembers how he wanted to talk with the man about what he knows and what the reason was behind all his smugness.
“Changbin-hyung and I are gonna hit the convenience store. We’re hungry,” he announces casually, already heading for the door, throwing his empty cup away in the trash can nearby.
He throws a not-so-subtle look over his shoulder, signaling for Changbin to follow him.
Changbin, still with that annoying smirk on his face, listens as he gets up with a stretch.
Chan barely glances up from the screen, nodding in acknowledgment. “Grab me something sweet, please.”
Minho looks at Jisung, his gaze unreadable, but the tilt of his head gives away his curiosity.
Jisung looks away.
“Be right back.” He mutters as he pushes through the door, hearing Changbin’s footsteps following behind.
The cool morning air hits him the second they step outside, and for a moment, Jisung just walks in silence, hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets, head down, brain swirling.
Changbin stretches with a loud yawn beside him, totally unfazed. “So,” he says, already smirking, “what did you want to talk about that's so secretive that even Minho can’t hear it?”
“Jeez, can you chill for like five seconds?” Jisung huffs, “I need to gather up my thoughts so I don't end up going off on a whole tangent.”
Changbin chuckles in response as they reach the convenience store, pushing through the glass doors, and the familiar hum of fluorescent lighting and freezer fans surrounds them. They each get baskets as they wander through an aisle.
He grabs his favorite tuna-mayo onigiri and a random can of coffee (he might be becoming a caffeine addict) and then stops in front of the ramen section, still not looking at Changbin.
“Okay, be honest.” His voice drops to a mumble. “Do you think... there’s something weird going on between me and Minho?”
Changbin looks at him with minor confusion, raising an eyebrow as he drops two cups of ramen noodles into his basket. “Define weird.”
Jisung sighs as he grabs a cup as well, “Like… I don’t know. Not bad weird. Just… weird weird. Because everyone acts like they know something I don't know about us.”
Changbin slowly blinks at him. He suddenly steps closer towards Jisung, placing a hand on his shoulder and stares directly into his eyes, “Okay, what happened? Spit it out.”
Jisung hesitates, “I watched this um– Minsung documentary last night.”
Changbin blankly stares at him in return.“You what?” He asks, a slow grin starting to form on his face, “Did I hear that right?”
“It was three hours long– don’t look at me like that– and I only watched an hour!” Jisung defends quickly, cheeks heating up.
“Oh, I’m absolutely judging,” Changbin says, letting out a wheeze of laughter, clutching his basket like it’s the only thing grounding him. “You watched a documentary about you and Minho. For an hour. That’s commitment, I'll give it to you.”
“It wasn’t on purpose! The algorithm trapped me!” Jisung grumbles. “One second I was watching fan cams of my cute self, the next it showed ‘The Story of Minsung: 2017–2022’ and okay, maybe I clicked on it, but still!”
Changbin is still grinning. “And?”
“And I didn’t realize how Minho looked at me until I saw it through someone else’s eyes,” Jisung admits, quietly. “Like, he’s always doing these little things for me. Has it always been like that? Am I really that dense?”
Changbin’s smile falters just a little, and his voice drops. “You really didn’t notice? He’s always been that way with you.”
Jisung shakes his head. “Not like that. Not like… whatever that video was showing. I knew we were close, but this video made me feel like I was missing something that everyone else seems to already know. And you– you especially always look at us weirdly too. Like you know something.”
There’s a beat of silence between them.
Then, Changbin sighs. “I mean… yeah. I do. But… it's not my place to say.”
Jisung exhales, long and shaky, the kind that makes his shoulders slump a little. He grips the handle of his basket tighter. “That’s such a frustrating answer, you know that?”
Changbin gives him a look that’s part sympathy, part you have no idea. “Look, I think you'll figure it out soon enough, so… continue watching that video tonight, okay?”
“Huh,” Jisung finally looks over at him, eyes narrowing in confusion. “How’s that supposed to help me?”
He just grins in response, annoyingly cryptic, “You’ll see.”
Later that night, as he settles into bed, Jisung reaches for his phone in the dark. He pulls the blanket over his head, so if anyone comes into his room right now it would hopefully look like he's asleep.
He unpauses the video where he left off and sinks into his pillow, phone balanced in his hands beneath the covers.
The year is now 2021 and SKZ Code has just started airing. In every clip, they’re either touching or practically glued to each other’s side.
Then comes the V LIVE they did for Stay, where they dressed as detectives. Jisung remembers how annoyed he was at Hyunjin for starting the rumor that he doesn't shower well.
There’s the part where past Jisung had jokingly asked, “Do you think you're handsome?” Where past Minho grinned all wide and silly, the kind of smile that always pulled a laugh out of Jisung without fail.
Jisung watches the moment more closely. He sees when he leaned in to ask Minho the question, and how Minho avoided making eye contact, his face is blank in the way it gets when he's trying not to give something away.
Jisung’s stare had been a bit intense, sure. But he hadn’t noticed, until now, the way Minho’s ears were glowing red, like they did when he gets embarrassed. But why would he be?
The video picks up again, now playing a moment Jisung had nearly forgotten about, one of their older behind-the-scenes clips. He watches himself on screen, grinning like a fool with makeup he dabbed on his nose to look like a Quokka.
He thinks he looks ridiculous. Cute, maybe, but mostly dumb. His cheeks flush just remembering how seriously he committed to the bit, trying hard to be cute.
The camera cuts to Minho with his cap placed sideways on his head causing Jisung to snort out loud. He still somehow managed to pull it off.
There's a zoom in on his face and Minho’s eyes are on him, a fond smile on his face. The video zooms in closer and Jisung can clearly see his ears, bright red again.
Jisung’s eyes widened in realization.
He was the source of his embarrassment. The reason for Minho’s flustered ears, the way he stumbled over his words, and the nervous glances away.
Everything settles in place now. The reason for his fond gazes. The lingering touches. The quiet ways Minho always picked him. The late-night dinners, the way Minho laughs a little harder when it was him saying something stupid.
The way Changbin looked at them like he was almost two seconds away from slapping sense into them both.
This whole time, Minho had been–
He shuts off the video abruptly and lets his head fall back onto the pillow, pulling his blanket down to stare at the ceiling above.
“Shit.”
It wasn’t just fanservice or whatever excuse Jisung has been telling himself all these years, because the way Minho acts on and off stage isn't exactly platonic.
Well, his reaction to finding out about this doesn’t seem that platonic either, his heart pounding in his chest, his face burning hot, as he throws an arm over his eyes.
Why didn't Minho say anything? Was he scared? Jisung could understand if that was one of the reasons. Their careers would be at risk. He wasn’t blind to the world they live in. In South Korea, people can be cruel, even when you’re just in love with someone of the same gender. Especially when you’re an idol.
But he also knows Chan and the others would defend both of them with their lives and they were the people he truly cares about.
Does he think that Jisung doesn’t feel the same? Well, he always knew their bond was special. Different. He just never really tried to put a label on it, never really slowed down long enough to ask himself what exactly he was feeling. Not like he was subtle at all, even this Youtuber noticed every lingering look, anxious gesture, and possessive gaze that he was failing to hide or didn't even notice that he was doing.
Maybe Minho had noticed. Maybe Minho saw it but still wasn’t sure. Maybe he was scared of being wrong?
So maybe Jisung would have to prove it.
Prove to Minho that he was not going to step away anymore, or brush it off, or pretend like their relationship drew the line at just friendship. Prove to him that it wasn't just one sided.
Because Jisung knew deep down for a while they both understood they had something special that went beyond friendship.
And then maybe Minho would be brave enough to finally tell Jisung how he truly feels.
His phone buzzes against the mattress, interrupting his train of thought. He lazily reads the screen and then suddenly sits up.
Minho Hyungie <3
Wanna grab dinner tomorrow? Just us?
Without any hesitation, Jisung replies.
Jisung
Sure, sounds good :)
“You’re kidding me.” Seungmin says. He blankly stares at Jisung as the water bottle he’s currently filling overflows, but he makes no sign of moving it.
“No I’m not.” Jisung winces already regretting this conversation, “I'm actually in great need of advice. Urgently.”
Seungmin blinks, “Let me get this straight. You need advice on how to win Minho over… so that he confesses to you?”
Jiusng nods earnestly, “Yes, because how else am I supposed to know if he likes me or not?”
Seungmin gives him the most judgemental once-over imaginable, as the water from his bottle still continues to overflow.
“Yesterday he tried to burn holes straight into Hyunjin’s head because his hands were on your waist. I believe the words he said to him after were, and I quote, “That's only my waist to touch. My Jaist,” or whatever,” Seungmin says, voice thick with disbelief. “That man is crazy for you. What are you on?”
Jisung flushes, caught off guard that Seungmin managed to notice how Minho felt before he did.
Did all the other members happen to know as well? “Well… I just want him to say it out loud.”
Seungmin glances him up and down again, lips twitching to reveal a smirk. He finally removes his water bottle placing the cap back on. “Just keep doing what you’re doing,” He suddenly gives a look of surprise as he looks behind Jisung, “Oh–hey, Minho hyung.”
Jisung jumps, heart racing, as he spins around in surprise, but the hallway behind him is completely empty.
He turns back around, only to find Seungmin completely vanished, nowhere to be seen.
“Oh, come on!” Jisung groans, frustration bubbling as the faint sound of dripping water echoes.
Minho ends up taking him to a very nice Japanese restaurant they both had wanted to try out for ages. He apparently also reserved a private room for the two of them, not an usual as they often have to for privacy reasons, a space away from the eyes of their fans, but Jisung’s heart still skipped a beat.
As they settle onto plush floor cushions, a delicate arrangement of sushi, sashimi, and steaming bowls of miso soup are spread out between them on a sleek wooden table. But Jisung for once is not focused on the food, as he stares across the table at the other man before him.
The first two buttons of Minho’s shirt are undone revealing just enough of his collarbones to send Jisung’s brain into overdrive. Minho is so effortlessly sexy and he tries his best not to visibly drool in response.
Minho, ever so perceptive, tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, “Something wrong with the nigiri?”
Jisung jumps slightly, fumbling with his chopsticks, “W-what? N-No, it’s great. Everything looks great. You look–I mean, it looks great.”
Minho smiles in response, a look that’s the perfect blend of teasing and overly fond. It's the same expression that shows up over and over again in that darn video analysis. The so-called Minho’s “Jisung look of fondness”.
Minho picks up a piece of nigiri with elegant ease and holds it out across the table.
“Here.” he says, voice low and smooth. “Eat up, jagi.”
A pet name they regularly call each other on a daily basis, but somehow, it still manages to catch him off guard this time.
He leans forward and takes a bite, trying to hide his nerves. He then chews slowly, savoring the taste.
“Good?” Minho asks, watching him closely.
Jisung looks up and meets his eyes, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Good.” he says, cheeks slightly flushed. “Really good.”
Minho smiles in return, a small, knowing curve of his lips that causes his heart to flutter.
Jisung decides not to look away, holding Minho’s gaze, suddenly feeling a bit bolder. His eyes trail down to his lips and then back up.
Minho blinks, his expression shifting. “What?” he asks, reaching for his tea, breaking their intense eye contact.
“Your smile– I just– umm I just really like it when you're happy. It makes me happy.” Jisung’s voice is light, casual, but there’s no mistaking the sincerity woven through it.
“And I like being the one that makes you happy.”
Minho chokes slightly on his tea, coughing once before clearing his throat.
He gives Jisung the most unamused glare he could muster, though it’s softened by the very obvious pink dusting his ears, causing Jisung’s heart to race even faster.
“You–” Minho starts, then cuts himself off, clearly searching for something to say.
Jisung just watches him, amused, elbow propped on the table, cheek resting in his palm.
In return, Minho grumbles, reaching for another piece of nigiri, eyes focused intently on his plate.
Jisung hums, soft and teasing. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
Minho freezes again. He looks up to glare at Jisung again, his ears now tinged red and trails further down the back of his neck. There’s a hint of a smile on his face though.
“You’re really pushing it today with the flirting bit.” Minho says, voice low, but there’s no real heat in it.
Jisung shrugs with faux innocence. “I’m just being honest.”
“Oh well in that case,” Minho then leans forward, slow and deliberate.
Jisung is caught off guard by the sudden proximity. He barely has time to react before he feels the gentle press of Minho’s fingers against his cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing the corner of his mouth–so close to his lips it makes his breath hitch.
“You had a little something.” Minho murmurs, voice softer now.
And then, still holding Jisung’s gaze, he retracts his hand and–without a hint of hesitation–lifts his thumb to his mouth, slowly licking it clean.
Jisung just stares, stunned into silence. He feels the heat that starts settling down in his cheeks, his mouth agape.
Minho smiles all smug, like the cat who got the cream, eyes glimmering with amusement.
“Eat your food jagi.”
The cool night air does nothing to help calm Jisung’s nerves. They both walk out side by side. Their hands brush once, then again. The third time, Minho’s pinky gently hooks around his own, and Jisung lets them stay there.
He doesn’t look over, and neither does Minho, but the corners of Jisung’s mouth pull up, just a little.
They didn't talk the whole way back to their dorm, which was fine but Jisung felt a little disappointed. Why won't Minho say anything? Why won't he try to make a move and finally confess? Maybe he needs more of a push. Maybe he has to be more obvious…
Jisung stops in his tracks, taking his hand back, causing Minho to stop as well.
Minho turns his head to give him a concerned look, but before he could speak Jisung grabs his wrist, holding it tightly.
“Hyung–” his voice wavers, “you know how much I care about you, right?”
Minho stills, as he looks almost caught off guard by Jisung’s sudden serious tone. His eyes search Jisung’s face, brows pulling together, like he's trying to solve a puzzle.
“I mean it. ” Jisung continues, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “It's not just for show, you know? Our relationship, I mean. I genuinely enjoy being here with you.”
Minho steadily observes him, face unreadable but there's something flickering behind his eyes. He looks like he wants to say something in return, but instead lifts his hand and flicks Jisung lightly on the forehead.
“Hey– what was that for?!” Jisung exclaims, rubbing the spot with a pout.
Minho shifts his shoulders, his posture suddenly more closed off. “You’re being weird. That's supposed to be my job.” he says lightly, but his voice sounds more distant. The way it cracks like it always does when he’s trying to hide something. He’s always been a terrible liar.
Jisung frowns, blinking. “I was being sincere.”
What was that reaction? He understands that they don’t often talk about their own emotions or try to have deep conversations, but it still hurts him. The fact that Minho isn’t taking his words seriously stings more than it should.
Minho observes him for a moment longer, eyes trailing his face. He must have seen his sincerity, because his expression softens, but if Jisung had looked more closely he would also notice that Minho’s eyes still looked as if he were in pain.
“I know.” Minho says, almost too softly. He turns away, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go. It’s late,” He says nonchalantly as he starts walking away from Jisung and their conversation.
Jisung trails after him, confused and left wondering if he said something wrong.
Once they make it back to their dorm, Jisung’s back in his room, as he flops onto his bed with a restless sigh. What would it even take to get Minho to finally confess? Maybe he needs to dive back into that video for some inspiration….
He plays the video on his phone and watches the remaining thirty minutes, but nothing stands out to him. He sighs once the video ends.
A new recommended video begins to load through the autoplay feature on his phone screen. This time the video thumbnail reads: “Minchan Moments a Compilation.”
“Chan and Minho?” Jisung raises an eyebrow from the thought, lips twitching in faint amusement so he lets the video play, not expecting much from it.
The first few minutes of the video showcases Minho running away from any sign of affection from Chan, earning a giggle from Jisung. It was almost like he was a stubborn cat trying to escape the grasps of his owner. As other members had highlighted, only Jisung got the privileges to touch Minho so casually, which he is happy about and quite proud of, always bragging about his control over the said grumpy cat.
But then the video takes a turn. He notices how Minho’s voice gets softer and his distaste for Chan’s affections suddenly turns from distaste to embarrassment. Jisung feels his smile begin to falter as he watches Minho get all flustered and shy around Chan, as he hugs Minho and calls him his baby.
And every “Channie-hyung” he hears from Minho sends him further and further into a spiral of self doubt. Jisung thought he was the only one to be able to see the softer side of Minho, but he was obviously wrong.
Chan is dependable–the kind of person the members could naturally lean on knowing he would be there to take care of them, so naturally calm and composed.
It makes sense that Minho, who acts so independent, would be more interested in someone like that. Someone who would be able to take care of him, unlike Jisung who constantly needed attention and validation, and loved to be taken care of.
Chan wasn't needy, selfish or emotional. He was someone Minho would rely on.
He starts to overthink every small little detail now.
How Minho always shows up early to recording sessions, often showing up with meals for Chan because Minho knows he often overworks himself and skips meals. How he restocks the fridge for Chan with his favorite foods because Minho is the kindest, most gentlest soul in their group no matter how hard he tries to uphold his aloof image. How they both place their trust in each other as the two oldest members.
Feeling disappointed, Jisung drags himself out of bed and shuffles toward the kitchen, hoping that a late night snack might do something to lift the heaviness in his chest, but he freezes when he hears voices nearby, low and muffled.
Huh, he didn't know Minho was expecting company.
He looks around the corner to see Chan and Minho talking. They seemed to be standing close together by the counter, their voices low enough that Jisung couldn't hear anything they were saying. Chan looks almost amused as he leans in closer to whisper something in Minho’s ear.
In response to whatever he said, Jisung watches as Minho’s ears turn a bright shade of red, just like they did at the restaurant. He starts to feel his heart break into a million itty bitty pieces.
How oblivious he was for thinking he was the only one who could fluster Minho like that.
That he and Minho had something different.
He tries not to let his heartbreak show as he enters the kitchen. Upon seeing him, Minho's eyes slightly widen, his ears somehow turn into an even deeper shade of red and then proceeds to push Chan away.
“Jisungie- how much did you hear?” He blurts out, voice higher than usual.
Jisung raises an eyebrow, doing his best to keep his tone playful, but something still twists inside his chest. “Relax, hyung. I didn’t hear anything. Just surprised to see the two of you whispering to each other in the dark like a couple of weirdos.”
Chan huffs a quiet laugh, clearly amused, while Minho fumbles for a response, his mouth opening then closing again.
He looks like he wants to say something more but he doesn’t. He doesn’t press as he walks to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water, ignoring the pain in his chest.
“Goodnight.” He tells them not to wait for their responses as he hurries back to his room. He closes the door behind him, leans back against it, and then sighs. His throat tightens as he feels the ugly feeling inside his chest forming a pit of jealousy, that he tries to wash away with a gulp of water.
Jisung wakes up feeling like absolute shit.
His head is heavy and his chest even heavier as he barely spares himself a glance in the mirror before throwing on a hoodie and heading out for the gym, his gym bag slung over one shoulder.
Because what else is a guy supposed to do after getting their heart broken?
He's too depressed to even try to lift a weight so he stumbles to the treadmill, walking on what seems like the lowest speed that even a turtle couldn't compare to it.
He was so sad and heartbroken that he couldn't even bother to pick a playlist, so he was walking slowly on a treadmill just with the sound of the machine as his only soundtrack.
“Umm rough morning?”
Jisung groans dramatically as he turns off the button of the machine.
He turns around to see Jeongin standing there, his arms crossed, already dressed in his own workout gear.
“Something like that.” He huffs, getting off the machine.
Jeongin watches him for a second, his eyes quickly moving up and down, before speaking up.
“This is about Minho-hyung, isn’t it?” He asks, his voice more gentle than Jisung has ever heard in his life.
Jisung doesn’t answer right away, instead staring at the floor like it personally offended him. Was he that easy to read?
He walks over to a bench and sighs before he eventually mutters “Yeah.”
Jeongin follows him and sits right beside him, still observing him.
Jisung exhales as he slumps forward, still staring at the floor. “I think I messed everything up with Minho-hyung.” he says, his voice quiet. “Or maybe I didn’t. Maybe it was never anything to begin with.”
“I thought I was special to him.” Jisung continues, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Like… I know we joke around a lot, and yeah, we flirt- but I think I was starting to mean it. And I thought for a second maybe he did too.”
He stops, shaking his head with a bitter little laugh.
“But then I saw him with Chan yesterday. And I don’t know, he just– he was flirting with him but he was all shy and soft, just different.” Jisung finally lifts his head, eyes glassy but not quite crying. “It makes me wonder why I barely get the chance to see him like that, and why he doesn't rely on me to take care of him sometimes, like he does with Chan.”
Jeongin’s eyes flicker over his face, brows drawing together slightly.
“Minho-hyung’s… hard to read.” Jeongin says carefully. “But, I know one thing- he doesn’t let just anyone close and he’s always been especially close with you.”
“Yeah, well,” Jisung mumbles, “maybe he just wants someone with more to offer…”
Jeongin turns to him fully at that, his voice firmer now. “Don’t say that. Minho-hyung relies on Channie-hyung, yes, but you don't know just how much he needs you as well. How much he appreciates you.”
Jisung doesn’t respond, just shrugs, fingers lacing together in his lap.
Jeongin lets the silence hang for a bit before bumping his knee against Jisung’s.
“Come on Hyung, let's lift something stupidly heavy until you feel better.” He says. He gets up and then offers his hand for him to take.
It's such a dumb offer and obvious distraction, but despite himself, Jisung cracks a small smile and accepts the hand.
Jeongin pulls him to his feet with ease, and then the two of them make their way to the weights section, side by side.
Jisung didn't realize until now just how much time he and Minho spent together every day, because it was almost impossible to avoid him.
Minho was always there waiting by the door in the mornings so they could walk to the company together or waiting for him at home in the evenings in their living room when Jisung returned.
So he goes out of his way to set an alarm early before Minho wakes up, and returns late at night after he has gone to bed.
If Minho notices, he doesn't say anything. He's always been considerate like that, always fine with giving Jisung the space he needs when he isn't in the mood to socialize.
However, after a week of avoiding him, he can tell Minho is getting more concerned through the hurt looks he sends every time Jisung avoids his gaze.
So it's no surprise when Minho decides to be the one to approach him in the kitchen after Jisung returns from the studio.
“Jisungie, you haven't been at home much lately. One might think you're avoiding me.” Minho states, straight to the point.
Jisung shoulders stiffen. He wasn't sure how he could possibly come up with an excuse to the person who could read him like an open book.
Still, he tries.
“I’ve just been tired lately Hyung.” He shrugs, hoping he looked convincing enough.
Minho raises an eyebrow as he crosses his arms, and the look on his face tells him that he’s not buying it. He’s always been frustratingly perceptive with anything related to Jisung.
“For an entire week?” Minho presses. “Tired enough to leave before I wake up and come home after I’m asleep?”
Jisung’s throat tightens with guilt. So he did notice.
“I didn’t realize I needed to report my schedule to you.” he blurts out, defensive, but the brief flash of hurt that crosses Minho’s face instantly fills Jisung with regret.
“Look hyung- I’m sorry- I didn’t-”
“No, you’re right.” Minho interrupts, “You don’t owe me an explanation Jisung. I just-” He hesitates before speaking again, “I just want to know if I have done something wrong.” His brows knit together slightly, face filled with worry. “Did I upset you?”
Jisung forces out a laugh, “No hyung- You didn’t do anything.”
Minho’s jaw clenches. He steps closer, backing Jisung into the counter, who stubbornly turns his head away.
“Then why are you avoiding me?” Minho asks quietly.
Jisung inhales slightly.
“I already told you hyung- I’m not. I've just been busy and now I’m tired.”
Minho studies him for a moment, his gaze trailing Jisung’s face, almost as if he were trying to pierce through his mind to find any hint of an answer.
Then he steps even closer, chest to chest, as his hand lifts to reach out for his shoulder, but the moment his fingers brush the fabric of his shirt, Jisung involuntarily flinches.
Minho freezes like he’s been struck. Jisung freezes too, his eyes widening. He did not mean to respond like that but if Minho had just touched him right now he's not sure how he would be able to hold back.
There's a beat of silence as Minho’s hand slowly falls back to his side.
“...Fine I’ll leave you alone then.” Minho’s voice is quiet and more guarded now. He takes a few steps back now, putting more space between them.
Jisung doesn't want space. He wants to grab Minho’s wrist and pull him back in just to confess right there and then. Admit to him just how much of a jealous prick he was and just how badly he needs him close that it was constantly driving him insane.
“Goodnight,” Minho says quietly as he turns and walks away, leaving Jisung behind for what feels like the first time ever.
The very next day Jisung decides to visit Felix’s dorm and he nearly cries when he’s greeted with open arms and a wonderfully caramel-smelling friend.
“He probably hates me now.” Jisung mopes, face buried deep into one of the couch cushions
From behind him he hears a sigh as Felix massages into his shoulders. A light kiss is pressed onto the top of his head.“Hyung would never hate you Jisungie, but I still don't get why you pulled away from him.”
Jisung’s voice comes out muffled.
Felix sighs again, “Jisung, I can't hear you like that.”
Jisung lifts his face off the cushion. “Because I like him!”
“Okay.. why is that so wrong?”
“He doesn’t feel the same!”
Felix stares back at him confused. “Huh? What do you mean? Didn't you have a plan to make him confess?”
Jisung jolts upright, “Ugh-I can't believe Seungmin told you!” He groans, “But now things have changed. I realized Hyung is just like that. He’s kind and reliable to all the members. Sure he might have a soft spot for me but it doesn't mean anything.”
“Why don't you confess?” Felix asks gently.
“I did! Well kind of- after our sushi date but.. ”
“And then you flinched when he tried to touch you?” Felix interrupts. “ Jisung, How else was he supposed to take that message?”
Jisung pouts, “Well I didn't mean too! I was just nervous! It’s Minho! He’s supposed to be someone who reads me better than that! Ugh- Maybe we both need space. Maybe it's for the best, so I can finally get over him.”
“Woah woah woah you still don't know how he feels Jisung-” Felix tries to convince him.
“I think he’s made it clear.” Jisungs says weakly, “ Minho is a great friend. Yeah we’re close, but Minho is just nicer to me because I live with him and I'm his dongsaeng.”
Felix rolls his eyes “Sure. And the times before you lived together, how about that?”
“Well, I’m tired of getting my hopes up. I'm tired of everything thinking they know everything about Minho and I. Minho is the sweetest, most loving person I have ever met, and even if he did like me, he could never love me romantically cause I'm a mess who occasionally needs space nevermind the fact I've never been in a serious relationship. And I'm weird-”
“Jisung-” Felix gently interrupts, “You really think Hyung cares if you’re strange? Hell we all are in our own ways, Minho being the biggest loveable weirdo- He likes you Jisung and I really think deep down you know it… You’re just scared.”
Jisung scoffs “If anything Minho’s scared cause he hasn't confessed yet.”
Felix tilts his head. “Or maybe he’s also confused now.”
Jisung frowns.
Felix raises an eyebrow “Think about it. You haven't realized his feelings until like- a week ago? Then you start dropping hints, and now he doesn't know how to act upon his years of repressed emotions. You suddenly pushing him away over what might be a slight misunderstanding isn’t exactly helping either. If anything it would look like-"
“I hate him.” Jisung groans as the realization crashes down on him. He buries his face in his hands, “Shit, that's not what I was trying to do at all.”
“Well then maybe you should talk to him then.”
“Right. I will.” Felix gives him a look. “Fine. I’ll talk to him tonight.”
Felix pats his back in support, “Atta boy.”
Jisung waits for Minho in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his phone clutched in his hand. He checks the screen for what feels like the hundredth time, even though he already knows there won’t be anything new. He knew Minho’s schedule like the back of his hand, so it was weird how he still hasn’t shown up.
The sound of the front door unlocking snaps Jisung out of his daze, his heart starting to race. It has only been twenty- four hours since their argument and Jisung doesn't want it to last longer than it already has knowing that he was in the wrong. He needs to fix it.
Soft, padded footsteps approach, each step making his pulse spike up. Jisung straightens himself up and places his phone in his pocket as he finally turns around to face him.
But the moment he sees Minho, his heart drops straight into his stomach, leaving him standing there with the words he wanted to say lodged in his throat.
Because just above the collar of Minho’s shirt are dark bruises blooming purple and red, standing out amongst his pale skin.
Minho pauses his steps when he notices Jisung standing still. His eyes follow where Jisung is staring.
“Oh-” Minho awkwardly mumbles, barely audible, as he begins to tug at his collar, trying to cover up the marks, but the damage had already been done.
“Hi.” Jisung manages, his voice coming out smaller than he means it to.
“Hey.” Minho replies, though it sounds almost guarded, like he has something to hide, and it hurt Jisung even more. The fact that they were trying to keep their own emotions in check because of the other.
For the first time in forever, an awkward silence settles between them, thick and suffocating.
Jisung can’t stop staring now. His chest aches, every insecure thought he’s had over the past week crashing down on him all at once. He was right all along. Jisung never had a chance. All his overthinking just for him to finally realize Minho has never felt that way.
“So,” Jisung says, forcing himself to look up, to meet Minho’s eyes instead of the marks on his neck. He tries to smile. “Looks like… you had a good night.”
Minho stiffens. “That’s not-” he cuts himself off, jaw tightening as his eyes search Jisung’s face like he’s trying to read something there. “I didn't think you’d be home.”
Jisung lets out a quiet laugh, though it was devoid of any humor. “It’s fine, hyung. Really. You don’t have to explain.” He pushes off the counter, suddenly unable to sit still. “I just wanted to talk, but… bad timing, I guess.”
He turns slightly, already halfway retreating, before Minho grabs his wrist. “Jisung please-”
Jisung stops but doesn’t turn back. His voice comes out tight, barely holding together. “Not now, hyung. Not now when-”
‘You just broke my heart.’ But the words don't come out.
It’s almost like Minho seems to understand though, his grip on his wrist loosening, enough to allow for Jisung to pull away.
He doesn't even dare to look behind him as he runs back to his room. The door clicks closed when the tears finally spill over, hot and uncontrollable as they slide down his cheeks and the familiar ache fills his chest again. It's when Jisung finally realises that Minho was never his.