Chapter Text
The sun cast a warm glow through the window as Jisung and Minho found their usual practice spot by the couch. They sat shoulder to shoulder, the guitar resting comfortably on Minho's lap.
As Minho’s fingers clumsily danced across the strings, Jisung couldn't help but observe the change in his expression. There was a distinct air of contemplation about him, his focus giving the music a strong start, only to falter as his brow furrowed and his thoughts visibly wandered astray.
Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Minho spoke up.
"Jisung, where were you yesterday? You didn’t let me know that the lesson was canceled. I was a bit worried when you disappeared." Minho asked timidly.
Jisung's fingers, which had been poised to adjust Minho's grip, faltered for a moment. As Minho set aside the guitar, he met his gaze.
"I... I went to work. I don’t know how it slipped my mind to let you know. Dick move of me to just stand you up," Jisung admitted, his shoulders slumping and hands falling into his lap. "Work went well, but…”
“But?”
“I ended up in a fight with a friend, and it was definitely on me, so I couldn’t make myself go to work today. I’m too scared to face him again," he continued.
It was odd how Minho had such a backward effect on him, Jisung thought, lost in his thoughts. Normally he’d just keep these matters to himself, but Minho just had something about him, something that made him want to quit the immature act. It felt as if just by meeting his gaze, he was see-through, just absolutely transparent, and attempting to act otherwise would be embarrassingly futile.
Minho's hand instinctively crept up, resting gently on Jisung's arm, offering silent support. It gave Jisung the strength to continue.
“I feel like I’m gonna end up word vomiting, so sorry in advance for that…” Minho began encouragingly nudging Jisung’s arm. “The argument won't make much sense without some context, so I'll try to explain shortly. Basically, I was in a band, and it was awesome until it wasn’t. A new guy joined, a bass player. Everyone loved the shit out of him, and I tried to do the same, but he was just so goddamn too much. We had a falling out, and I left the band,” he explained, sulking as he did.
A realization dawned on Minho, but he remained silent, nodding in understanding as Jisung poured his heart out.
"The band's leader is a close friend of mine. We met in college, and now he's my boss since he owns the company I work for," Jisung chuckled dryly. "I was one of his first employees. Fuck, I’m rambling, sorry.”
Minho shook his head with an amused smile. "No worries, Jisung. Keep going," he encouraged.
Not wanting to look like a crybaby in front of Minho, Jisung blinked away the urge to cry. "We went out to eat, and everything seemed fine at first," he began, his voice laden with frustration. "But then he wanted to talk, wanted to understand why I have such a strong dislike for that guy. Like, it's hard to explain. Have you ever experienced that feeling where every little thing someone does just boils your blood? Cause that's how he makes me feel."
He stopped, hoping for Minho's understanding gaze, but instead, he was met with confusion and an awkwardness that made him uneasy. It was that look that spoke loud disagreement. Disregarding the awkwardness, he pressed on with his venting, his voice tinged with a sudden uncertainty.
"Let me give you an example. One day, I had a sore ankle because my dumbass fell. And like always, I wore boots with a high, thick soles. The others teased me about not taking care of myself properly, and that was okay, you know, just playful banter. But that guy... He went beyond that. He genuinely started lecturing me, saying things like, 'Are you an idiot? Your ankle is injured, just take my shoes, idiot.' Like, the guy was raising his voice at me like I was some misbehaving child. It got under my skin, Minho. We weren't close enough for him to be reprimanding me like that. And for the record, I’m sure offering his shoes was just some fake ass ploy to seem like a saint."
Expecting Minho to understand turned out to be a mistake, as his face contorted with skepticism, clearly disagreeing with Jisung's perspective. Still, Jisung carried on, feeling the need to get it all out despite his voice faltering.
“Once he figured out my dislike for him, our situation worsened tenfold. We’d clash every other second, I swear. Sometimes I’d try to be a good bandmate and advise him since he was still intermediate level, but he always took it personally. I couldn’t even complain to my friends… their advice was always the same: ‘Talk it out with him, I’m sure it’s just some kind of misunderstanding.’ The last straw was when I found him messing with my guitar. He was obviously playing a prank on me, and it led to our biggest fight. And guess what? I ended up leaving the band. I even left my guitar with a friend because it felt tainted."
"Jisung… you're such an idiot," Minho blurted out, his words like a sudden splash of cold water. Jisung's face contorted with hurt, and Minho immediately regretted his lack of tact. He paused, collecting himself before continuing in a more measured tone.
"Sorry, Jisung. That came out wrong. What I'm trying to say is, that you're so wrapped up in your own head about this that you're missing the bigger picture. Clearly, this guy's presence has your panties in a twist. But maybe there's a chance there’s been a misunderstanding. Have you ever tried talking to him about how you feel?"
Jisung crossed his arms, still feeling defensive. "I've tried, but every time we talked, it just turned into an argument. He always seemed to misinterpret my intentions.” He huffed out in frustration and spoke through a pout. “Felt like we were speaking different languages."
Minho nodded with a thoughtful look. "It sounds like you’re stuck in a vicious circle of miscommunication. Maybe it's worth giving it another shot, but this time, stay calm and show that you’re not looking for a fight."
Minho was sounding awfully smart, so it was hard for him to win the argument. Jisung sighed, feeling exhausted albeit somewhat willing to listen. The idea of reopening that wound seemed daunting, but he also realized that avoiding the issue hadn't resolved anything, so he uncrossed his arms and re-met Minho's gaze.
“You really are exactly as described,” Minho muttered under his breath. It sounded full of exasperated endearment, and Jisung’s heart fluttered slightly at the soft tone until the words properly settled in his mind, causing him to rip away from Minho's hand in shock.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Jisung demanded, his mind swirling with confusion and anger.
Realizing his mistake, Minho scrambled to explain himself, evidently panicked. “Your story made me realize something. Fuck, this is awkward.” He swallowed hard and looked to the side, looking unsure of whether to share his revelation. The truth followed a deep sigh. “I’m apparently learning guitar because of you.“
The entire situation had taken an unsettling turn for Jisung, and he opened his mouth wide in shock. "Minho, before I label you as a stalker, you better explain properly," he said, remembering how terrible Minho was at expressing his thoughts.
“Kim Seungmin, friend of mine. Hyunjin too,” he stated. Before Jisung was able to react, Minho whacked him over the shoulder. “That’s for making me waste my precious energy on guitar.”
His words that were supposed to explain only worsened Jisung’s confusion. “Minho,” he said and retaliated with a whack of his own. Small goosebumps were traveling his body, and a lump in his throat had formed. Knowing Minho was close with Hyunjin after having totally talked crap about him left a feeling of disgust. And not for Minho, but himself. “You’re explaining parts without context. I’m really not following at all!”
It made Minho crack a crooked smile as he rubbed over the arm he’d just been hit on. “Sorry, I’ll do better... I’m learning how to play because that dog, Kim Seungmin was moping around, and I figured getting a new guitarist for his band would… cheer him up. I didn’t realize it’d be so hard. I’d probably have quit ages ago if it hadn’t been for you,” he confessed, taking a pause. "Actually, scratch that. I'm officially throwing in the towel."
“What?” was all Jisung could say.
“Yeah, it’s pretty embarrassing that I would do something like that for that guy…”
“No! Not that, that’s actually pretty cute…” Jisung rushed to say, shaking his head in exasperation. “I’m talking about the quitting part Minho.”
Minho grinned. “The band won’t be needing a new guitarist when you’re here.”
Jisung's mind was a whirlwind of emotions as he tried to process Minho's unexpected statement. Confusion and surprise danced across his face as he stared at Minho, searching for any sign that this wasn't some elaborate prank.
"You were... in the end learning for me?" Jisung settled on, his voice tinged with disbelief, and his heart clinging to the single good outcome of his words. He should’ve been focusing on everything but that, but the euphoric words made him realize that perhaps he wasn’t the only one with deeper feelings. Besides, he wasn’t ready to make up his mind about the less-so-good stuff.
Minho nodded, a sheepish smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I started learning guitar because I wanted to help Seungmin, also the rest of the kids but mostly him, but it's been tough. I don’t even like it that much. And then I realized... I've been spending so much time practicing and thinking about music, but it's you I want to play with. I haven’t been doing it with the band in mind for a while. It became an excuse to have you around."
Minho's words echoed through Jisung’s head, sending flurries of goosebumps up and down his spine. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. After everything he had just totally overshared he couldn’t even feel sad anymore, to think that Minho had been (not so) quietly learning guitar for him all along, it was overwhelming.
A tinge of fear warred within him alongside the happiness. This twist had caught him way off guard, and he wasn't sure how to respond.
Before he could gather his thoughts, Jisung's pent-up emotions burst forth, and he launched himself at Minho, wrapping his arms tightly around him. It was a fierce embrace, filled with unspoken words that he hoped to convey.
"You idiot," Jisung murmured, his voice muffled against Minho's shoulder. "I can't believe you went through all this trouble for such a stupid reason. You know you suck at guitar, right? We could’ve hung out normally all along, dumbass."
Minho chuckled, his voice filled with warmth. "We’re both idiots, I guess."
As Minho and Jisung remained locked in their embrace, the room around them seemed to fade into the background.
The sound of Minho's guitar, now set aside, resonated faintly against the wind seeping through the slightly opened window as if still carrying the melodies Minho had clumsily played earlier. The instrument rested against a worn-out armchair, surrounded by scattered sheet music and guitar picks.
A small table stood nearby, cluttered with empty mugs and a half-finished plate of snacks. The remnants of their earlier attempt at a lighthearted evening were forgotten amidst the weight of their conversation. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee still wafted through the room, a comforting scent that mingled with the emotions swirling between them.
And the room itself seemed to hold its breath, as if aware of the pivotal moment unfolding.
Amidst the stillness, Jisung's racing thoughts threatened to shatter the tranquility. The realization that Minho intended for him to rejoin the band loomed over him like a cloud, casting a shadow on the silver lining of their talk. The room's warmth seemed to cool slightly as the unease settled in.
Jisung's gaze shifted around, no longer focused solely on Minho. His home had been a refuge, a sanctuary. But now, it felt suffocating, as if it held expectations that he wasn't sure he could meet. The traces of music that reminded him of his screw-ups were everywhere.
In the midst of the charged atmosphere, Minho's voice broke through the haze of Jisung's thoughts, pulling him back into the present. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this quiet before.”
“Minho, I can’t return to the band," Jisung confessed, his voice shaking.
Minho's response, though spoken in hushed tones against Jisung's pitch-black hoodie, held a comforting resolve. “Jisung, I can see that you doubt your own feelings and treatment of Hyunjin. Quit the stubbornness and make up with him. He’s weak,” Minho urged, his face nestled against Jisung's pitch-black hoodie, his voice carrying a gentle plea. “He’s probably gonna cry and hug you or something if you apologize.”
Jisung felt the urge to argue, to defend his pride, but there was something about Minho's gentle embrace that melted his resistance, so he relented. "Okay," he whispered, surrendering to the pull of Minho's presence.
Then the question he feared was voiced. “I have to ask, though. Why is it that he pisses you off so much?”
For once he wasn’t going to run from the truth and finally admitted, “He’s just so perfect. He steps into a room and everyone instantly loves him. Also, his talent? Bro was horrible at bass the first time I met him but within no time he was able to keep up with us. I want that. I want that spotlight the universe seems to always just grace him.”
Jisung was about to pull away when Minho stated, “Jisung, you’re sunlight. I don’t think you see it yourself, but to me it’s blinding. Don’t compare yourself with others when you’re already everything you envy,” Minho replied so genuinely it made Jisung want to cry. His lips grazed Jisung’s neck causing him to shudder, but Jisung was unsure whether it was intentional or not. “Your description, though… you don’t… like him right?” the question was asked in a hushed tone and Minho’s hands scrunched the fabric of his hoodie.
Before he could offer any kind of reaction to the ridiculous question, Jisung's gaze veered toward Minho's guitar, his breath catching in his throat.
“Wait…”
The instrument gleamed under the sunlight, its polished surface reflecting the room's warm glow. His curiosity surged within him. With a gasp escaping his lips, he finally voiced his query. "Minho... where did you get your guitar?" His voice was barely above a reverent whisper.
Minho's arms around him tightened, providing a relentless yet comforting embrace. His response came almost instantly, though muffled by the fabric against which he was speaking. "Seungmin dropped it off at my place for safekeeping or something," Minho explained.
Jisung pulled away slightly from the hug, his mouth agape and his eyes wide with disbelief. "That's my baby!" he exclaimed, the joy and excitement brimming in his voice.
A faint blush tinted Minho's cheeks, freezing him at Jisung's words. He seemed momentarily lost for words, overwhelmed by the unexpected words.
"Seungmin must've either trusted you enough to keep her safe until I decided to return, or he was too lazy to take it with him when I basically threw it away..." Jisung continued, his words flowing with enthusiasm.
A sheepish expression settled upon Minho's features, each word uttered by Jisung deepening the embarrassment etched across his face, but Jisung was too consumed by his reunion with the guitar to pay much attention to the reaction.
"Oh," Minho managed to utter, sounding oddly embarrassed for reasons unbeknownst to Jisung. However, Jisung's fervor overshadowed the thought, and he eagerly reached for the guitar, his fingers itching to reunite with his cherished instrument.
Yet amidst the exhilaration, another realization crashed down on him, bringing him to a sudden halt. "Wait!" he exclaimed once more.
“Hm?” Minho chimed in, sporting a slight pout.
“It’s just...” Jisung mused, his brows knitting with puzzlement. “You know everyone in my band, right? I was in it. Why do we not know each other?”
Minho's pout deepened, revealing a touch of playful exasperation. "Well, from what I've gathered, the reason why is because you’re scared of meeting new people. Whenever I was invited to stuff, you never showed up," Minho revealed.
“Ah, I see…” Jisung laughed, a self-deprecating grin forming on his lips. "Whoops. Guess I should start going out of my comfort zone some more," he embarrassingly admitted.
Minho's laughter tinkled through the room, and with a swift, gentle tug, Minho pulled Jisung into his embrace once more, preventing him from reaching for his guitar. “Yeah, I could’ve met you sooner if you hadn’t been so antisocial.” Jisung relented against his hold and slumped down into it, making Minho hum appreciatively.