Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

While Jisung considered slamming the door, he still felt bad about throwing a wallet in his friend's face the last time, so he decided to take a deep breath as he listened to his friend's pleas for him to reconsider. Having seriously decided to leave the band, every word he heard was gibberish to his ears, though.

In a tone that would probably be considered callous, he leaned against the wall near the door opening and spoke. “I’ve made up my mind. He’s an asshole, and I don’t want to work with him, period.”

Seungmin's brows furrowed, his mouth slightly ajar, giving the impression that he was uncertain of what to say. Despite their close friendship, Jisung had no intention of lingering in awkward silence or enduring another 'try to get along with him'. Several seconds ticked by, and growing irritated, Jisung averted his gaze, ready to close the door and dismiss his friend. Just as he was about to do so, Seungmin finally found his voice.

"I can't force you two to get along, I suppose," Seungmin spoke, his tone tinged with regret. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it work, but I'll respect your wishes, Jisung. It goes without saying that you’re welcome back anytime. The others will definitely be pissed at you, but still,” he added, his expression pained despite his monotone voice.

The way Jisung chuckled wasn't even remotely genuine, nor was his strained smile as he murmured, "yeah." To avoid another awkward silence, Jisung added, "I'm sorry it had to end this way. Are we still cool?”

Seungmin, who typically avoided physical contact, made a rare attempt to comfort Jisung. After dropping Jisung's forsaken guitar, he gently took hold of his arms. Jisung, who knew Seungmin so well, could see that he was still pondering, but he was soon embraced by Seungmin. “Yeah,” Seungmin replied, his voice carrying the weariness of someone who had just finished a marathon.

When they parted and the door closed, Jisung lingered feeling a bit conflicted about his decision. As he always did when he was in emotional turmoil, he shook off the feeling and went into his bedroom to watch Howl's Moving Castle.

After a week in almost total isolation, Jisung realized how anti-social he was without his bandmates urging him to get outside and prodding him to hang out with them. Sure, they were annoyances, but they were also the only thing keeping him from becoming a recluse. Well, they were the only thing keeping him from that path, he mentally corrected himself, as they’d yet to reach out to him and vice versa since his abrupt leave. The only exception was Chris, who’d been checking in here and there, however, he’d lacked the courage to respond.

It was a fine line between precious alone time and suffocating loneliness, and Jisung had no intention of crossing it. Initiating contact with someone had never come naturally to him, but he couldn't deny the growing urge to reach out. His mind flooded with thoughts of his bandmates, echoed the voice of Chris, praising him for considering stepping outside his comfort zone. It didn't surprise him anymore; after all, Chris had always been the one to encourage him to embrace new experiences. But for now, Jisung pushed aside thoughts of his past leader and focused on the daunting prospect of actually reaching out to someone.

Frantically tapping his feet and fingers, a nervous rhythm reverberating through his body.

Now, as lovely as it would’ve been to say that he went about texting someone normally, without issues, it would be a lie. The mere thought of composing a text message made his pulse quicken, and so he'd taken around 15 minutes to draft a message he intended to send to Changbin, whom he doubted would hold too great a grudge to leave him on read or delivered.

Despite his confidence in the old friend, his finger trembled as he pressed the send button.

^{Jisung:
Yo, bin. I know you’re probably mad at me, but I miss you, and I wanted to ask if you’d maybe be down to hang out. I could treat you to pizza.}

He knew it was naive to expect an immediate response, but his anxiety compelled him to wait, unwilling to risk missing Changbin's reply or give him a chance to change his mind in case he said yes. He felt paralyzed, waiting in anticipation.

Surprisingly, only two minutes passed before his message was read, both to his dismay and excitement. The dots on the screen seemed to flash for an eternity before a reply finally came through. As he received the reply, he noticed that he had been biting his lower lip unconsciously, and the action eased.

^{Changbin:
I am mad.
But…
You’re using proper punctuation??
Being your friend is not good for my heart. You worry me so much Jisung.
When do you want me to come over?
(don’t think my concern will get you out of treating me.)}

^{Jisung:
Tomorrow??}

^{Changbin:
You’re lucky Yongbok canceled on me. I’ll be there around 4 pm.}

“What a fucking relief,” Jisung murmured, finding comfort in any sound interrupting the total silence that left him feeling like a hermit.

The rest of the day stretched before him, devoid of any productive activity. Usually, he’d be writing songs, but that felt wrong. Instead, he found himself indulging in the captivating world of National Geographic, hoping to at least feel a semblance of productivity. As he immersed himself in a documentary about cheetahs, the distant yet familiar sound of a strum reached his ears causing him to jitter in surprise.

It was muffled and sounded horribly out of tune. However, it wasn’t annoying enough to pull him out of his engagement in the documentary, so he ignored it. Honestly, the live background music wasn't unwelcome, since he missed it. Despite sounding amateur, he found it enjoyable. At least until the guitar amp was turned up.

Within the first two hours, it barely permeated his room. However, without warning, the off-tune cacophony grew louder, transforming into his own personal prelude to hell.  A clear image appeared in his mind. In it, he stood before the gates to the nether regions, panic-stricken as whatever song the person was attempting welcomed him.

Though he was annoyed, he didn't want to overreact by storming his neighbor's house. It was the first time he had been disturbed by someone living there. And well, the person had surely endured Jisung's late nights of recording, mixing, etc.

Frankly, although it was embarrassing to admit, he had no idea anyone lived there before the first open chord was struck. He’d never seen anyone enter or exit the place, and no noise had ever penetrated the wall between them, so he had foolishly assumed it was unoccupied. It was the reason why he’d never been quiet with his own music, so he’d unwittingly sealed his own fate, or more eloquently put: buttfucked himself.

Rather than succumbing to anger, he resigned himself to endure. It seemed only fair.

That night, sleep became a distant possibility.

In the following six hours, his neighbor kept at it on and off without getting the slightest bit better. It was kind of impressive in an ironic way.

The torture on his ears stopped around 4 am. However, the sound remained etched in his eardrums, playing relentlessly in his mind, preventing him from falling asleep until 6 am.

He was awoken by the doorbell. His steps wavered, and he almost crashed into the door in his attempt to open it. Once he managed to open it, Changbin burst in with a muffled greeting, his mouth full of croissant. Still disoriented due to sleep deprivation, Jisung took a moment before it clicked in his head that Changbin was really there, sitting on his couch. “Oh!”

It should’ve been awkward or at least tense, but Jisung’s eyes quickly landed on the sight of crumbs on his new couch. “Asshole! That's a new couch!” he exclaimed.

“You say that as if there isn’t trash everywhere. There’s even an empty bag of chips right in front of me on the floor! When did you actually clean last?” Changbin asked, sounding an awful lot like his mother. His munching continued, and small flakes fell with his bites accompanying the random trinkets covering Jisung’s floor.

“Fuck off.”

Jisung couldn’t hold his mask and flashed a heart-shaped smile as a result of the sliver of normalcy that had returned to him.

It’d become apparent to Jisung that they were on the same page. In lieu of discussing the elephant in the room, neither even hinted at it and instead ignored it. They talked as if nothing had happened at all, and it was relieving to Jisung that he’d be able to postpone dealing with his issues for at least a little while longer.

They engaged in insignificant conversation, but eventually, the sound of horrible guitar playing made Jisung halt. Changbin paused alongside him, and they listened to the noise being made, both with wide eyes.

An especially ear-wrecking strum made Changbin let out an unrestrained, boisterous laugh. He hugged himself tight with his arms, leaning back against the couch. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you’ve got fucking Slash living next to you, giving you live performances!” he joked, bursting into another howl of laughter that accompanied the loud sounds of choppy guitar playing.

“I can’t believe I forgot too,” Jisung responded solemnly. “He basically kept me up all night. I was so close to breaking into his place and smashing the instrument to pieces, rock and roll style or whatever the fuck it would take to ensure it would never ever be able to make noise again.”

His frustrating words made Changbin laugh once again, and they continued on, with the occasional sounds of the guitar serving as background noise.

After his friend had called it a night and left, the noise gradually faded, but soft, lazy strums continued to play one after another. Jisung felt a tinge of sadness as he listened, sensing that the person playing had lost their enthusiasm. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t the tiniest bit relieved he’d be able to go without the torture on his ears, though.

However, as if the thought had jinxed him, a moment later, the guitar amp turned way up and gave him the worst fright of his life. Frustrated strums pounded against his ears, and at that moment, Jisung decided that he’d had enough.

He found himself at his neighbor's door in an instant and knocked against the door with irritation. The playing instantly ceased, but the door remained closed, so he knocked again.

A brief moment passed.

Then the door opened, and Jisung laid his eyes on his neighbor for the first time.

He almost let out a yelp. The man standing before him was genuinely the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his life.  Now, Jisung was never shy about proclaiming his own beauty, often stating that he was the hottest person he knew, but seeing this godforsaken, horrible guitarist shattered his world.

“Yes?” the man asked after his staring had greatly passed the mark of excessive. He wore a frown and looked awfully annoyed at the disturbance Jisung had caused him despite his own contribution to him coming in the first place.

It pissed Jisung off.

“Well, I’d be really fucking happy if you’d turn down the noise. Our walls are paper thin, bro.” His neighbor visibly cringed at the word bro but Jisung was too tired and annoyed to give a fuck, so he raised his brows expectantly.

“Uhm, sure. Sorry, I guess,” his neighbor replied, appearing flustered.

“Awesome!” Jisung replied with a saccharine voice, smiling psychotically. He didn’t wait for the door to close before heading back to his own apartment. And before he heard the slam of the door, he added, “also, I’d probably tune that if I were you. Every strum sounds like a dying cat.” It might’ve been a bit too much, sorta cringe-worthy even, but he felt as though the emotional distress he’d been caused justified the comment.

Sinking down on his couch, Jisung felt a newfound inner peace.

The peace lasted a good two days. The entire thing had actually been lost in Jisung’s mind as he’d managed to get busy working on some bars for his side gig as a ghostwriter. However, all the irritation he’d been rid of came surging back as the loud, shrilling noises penetrated the walls between him and the devil beyond it. It’d been two days since he last played, so Jisung figured the amp would have to be lowered shortly. Otherwise, his neighbor would probably have the decency to stop playing soon. Despite his best efforts to stay positive, Jisung's expectations were dashed as two hours of uninterrupted ear assault ensued. It was like auditory molestation.

Driven by frustration, Jisung decided that if his neighbor insisted on playing despite his pleas for peace, the least he could do was ensure the guitar was properly tuned. So, with a newfound determination, he pounded on the neighbor's door, waiting impatiently for it to swing open.

As the door creaked open, his neighbor stood there, eyeing Jisung warily. Jisung didn't waste time with pleasantries and barged past him, making a beeline for the source of his irritation – the guitar.

“What the fuck?" he heard his neighbor say, clearly taken aback by the audacity of this intrusion, but paid it no mind.

He felt kind of choked up looking at it, as it was the same model he’d been using. Tempted as he was to smash it in frustration, he resisted the impulse and instead focused on his objective, sitting down and preparing to tune the guitar.

A mere twist of the first peg would have tuned the E string, had the man whose home he'd just invaded not interrupted him. “Give me one reason not to call the police before I do it. I’ve got the number ready on my phone,” his neighbor declared, his resolve evident in his voice.

Jisung continued tuning the instrument, undeterred by the man's warning. "One thing is to ignore my polite requests to lower the volume, another is to not even research how to play. I know you didn't bother by the way, because tuning is the most fundamental task for a guitarist. You should be grateful I'm helping you out," he retorted, his focus unwavering.

"Oh," his neighbor responded, his tone shifting as understanding seeped in.

“Yeah.”

Jisung was frankly too irritated to feel awkward, although he knew he would cringe at the memory later. “Problem for the future Jisung,” he murmured unconsciously, too engrossed in his task to have any ounce of shame.

“Come again?” his neighbor asked, bringing Jisung back to reality.

“Oh, nothing.”

At some point, his neighbor had sat down next to him. However, this didn't register until he finished tuning the guitar and looked up to find the man's face alarmingly close to his own. Jisung couldn't help but notice a hint of admiration mixed with confusion in his neighbor's eyes as he strummed a chord to test the newly tuned guitar.

His neighbor's irritation seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a mild curiosity. "So, you actually know what you're doing?" he asked, his voice skeptic.

Jisung shrugged nonchalantly, still feeling a bit on edge. "Yeah, I've been playing for years. Music is my passion."

A flicker of intrigue crossed his neighbor's face, and he tentatively reached out to take the guitar from Jisung's hands. As he began strumming a few chords, Jisung couldn't help but cringe at the way he seemed to be plucking with the pick in his attempt to strum. The out-coming sound reminded Jisung more so of a kalimba than a guitar.

The guy glared down at the guitar as if it’d betrayed him. Jisung choked down a small laugh, but his staring at the other could probably be felt, because a second later his gaze turned to him, filled with amazement. “Please teach me,” he asked, his voice heart-wrenchingly soft.

Jisung swore his heart skipped a beat at that moment, in that oddly endearing moment where his entire focus was on keeping himself from bursting out 'yes'. But he couldn't simply pass on his craft to someone so disrespectful. Despite the allure of the guy's pleading eyes, Jisung's stubbornness won out. He mustered a sheepish chuckle instead of a positive response, and his neighbor tilted his head in response.

“You’ve practically given me tinnitus with your recent playing, and you want me to support its continuation?"

“Oh, I’m sorry,” his neighbor's voice remained soft, his eyes pleading for Jisung's help. It reminded him of Puss in Boots from the movies, using those big eyes to get his way, and it almost worked.

Before he’d end up doing something dumb, Jisung placed the guitar next to himself on the couch and hastily made his way to the door. He left with a muttered, "Uhm, sorry."

Fortunately, he was able to get out but his luck turned when his shirt was pulled from behind. “I’ll lower the volume, please help me. I’m… having trouble progressing on my own, frankly.”

Jisung whined before answering. “Not interested! Take lessons if you want to learn. Or YouTube! YouTube is great.”

His shirt was let go of, and he ran into his own apartment and slammed the door shut.

Leaning against the door, he took a moment to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, but it steadily lowered until the sound and feeling subsided.

He breathed a sigh of relief at his escape before returning to his work.

The days passed, but the relentless guitar playing continued. Jisung grew tired of direct confrontation, resorting instead to pounding on the wall separating him from his neighbor. Yet, the rhythmic thuds yielded no results, only reverberating through his own bones.

The late-night sessions took a toll on his already disrupted sleep schedule, and he couldn't help but feel that it was a deliberate attempt to provoke him.

His suspicion was confirmed when a note slipped under his door, catching his attention with its cheeky message: “teach me, and i’ll stop. :)” Rather than sparking any willingness to engage, it only fueled Jisung's determination to avoid direct contact. He would stick to his indirect approach.

The guitar playing didn’t even sound like a sincere attempt to improve anymore. It was so evident that it was solely done to annoy Jisung to the fullest. Jisung decided he’d be petty.

First, he played whatever came to mind on his electric piano at maximum volume, the keys slamming beneath his fingers. Then, he attempted a vocal performance of "I Will Always Love You," only resulting in a sore, scratchy throat. As a third strategy in his battle against his newfound enemy, he resorted to using the wall as a makeshift drum, pounding it with a primal rhythm. But his efforts were in vain, as his neighbor retaliated by cranking the amp to overdrive. It was the final straw.

Determined to make a statement, Jisung grabbed his computer and speaker and began searching for his loudest, most strident track—a trash metal inspired one he’d worked on with Changbin a couple of years ago. As the volume escalated to an ear-splitting level, even Jisung questioned the wisdom of his own plan, his ears ringing with the intensity of the sound.

It didn’t take long before he started feeling like a paradox due to how backwards his actions were. Here he was, wrecking his own ears in order to make his neighbor stop doing that exact thing to him. It wasn’t like him to quit when mad, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of childishness for his own actions. Driven by a mix of frustration and shame, he found himself standing at his neighbor's door once again.

Before he could even knock, the door swung open, and his neighbor nearly collided with him, his surprised exclamation punctuating the air. "Oh, shit."

“I’m coming in,”  Jisung declared,  pushing past him with a determined stride and making himself comfortable without waiting for permission.

The devil's instrument sat nearby, tempting Jisung to take a closer look. What he saw was a shocking sight—a guitar splattered with blood, particularly around the waist. His anger dissipated instantly as concern took over, prompting him to grab his neighbor's wounded hands.

His neighbor made a confused noise as Jisung took a hold of them. "Are you fucking insane?" Jisung exclaimed, observing the profuse bleeding and scabbed bits that had yet to heal. "Where do you keep the first aid kit?" he asked, realizing his harsh tone and offering a more gentle one.

The guy seemed embarrassed, his gaze dropping as he sheepishly nodded toward a white box sitting on a kitchen shelf. Jisung rushed towards it and began tending to the wounds. “All of this to get my attention? Did you ever think to approach me like a normal fucking person instead of fucking me up like this?” His frustration made him careless with his bandaging, and the guy hissed. “Sorry.”

“Most of it is just ripped off calluses, I think. I didn’t realize I’d hurt myself this much before you pointed it out… But thank you for helping me Jisung,” his neighbor expressed gratefully once the nursing was complete.

His movements paused. "Why do you know my name?" Jisung inquired, perplexed by the familiarity.

The guy blushed, his ears turning bright red. His cheeks took on a shade even pinker than the weird pig doodles Changbin would draw. "You said your name the last time."

“I did?”

“Yeah, in a weird murmur about your future self.”

“Oh.”

"And, well, I've been near your door a few times. I wanted to knock, but I felt a bit embarrassed," his neighbor admitted shyly.

The newfound knowledge left Jisung dumbfounded.

“You’re really something else…  So you're embarrassed by that, but not by your horrible, loud playing."

“I mean, it wouldn’t be so horrible if you’d just teach me,” his neighbor replied, unabashed.

“Shameless!”

His neighbor huffed out a little laugh, a smile forming crookedly on his face, his right eye slightly pinched. It was a sight that Jisung found both endearing and exasperating, a combination that made his next action feel inevitable.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” his neighbor repeated, tilting his head in the same endearing way as before.

“I’ll teach you,” he replied earnestly. The ease with which they’d fallen into a natural banter compelled him to give it a chance. However, he silently vowed to make his neighbor regret it if the excessively loud playing didn't cease.

He was about to say the neighbor’s name but realized as he opened his mouth that he had no idea what it was. It felt sort of embarrassing, so his request for it came out muffled. Instead of a direct response, he received another tilted head and a curious "o" shape forming in his neighbor's mouth. "Your name?" Jisung repeated, a flicker of unease running down his spine.

“Minho. Lee Minho,” came the reply, accompanied by a feline smile.

“Ah, Minho. Shall we start the lessons tomorrow then? I was busy before you... disturbed me," Jisung said, his irritation still evident in his words. Minho, however, showed no remorse and was instead radiating brightness and smiling victoriously.

“Sounds good!”

Chapter Text

The following day, Jisung and Minho met up for their first lesson, each displaying a different attitude.

It was no secret to anyone who knew him that Jisung had a petty side, which was evident in his venomous words and lack of effort in engaging in a pleasant conversation. On the other hand, Minho seemed to struggle to contain his smile, eagerly accommodating Jisung's every request, be it water, snacks, or even slippers. Despite Jisung’s awareness of his own rude behavior, his self-awareness did little to improve his manners.

“The tea is too bitter. I want sugar,” Jisung stated his cockiness on full display.

Minho hummed a reply and handed him the desired sugar, then went to fetch his guitar. Once it’d been retrieved, Jisung couldn’t help but keep an intense stare at it. The similarity to his own was uncanny, and a lump formed in his throat at the thought. He cleared his throat, intending to speak, but his voice cracked instead. "So tell me what you kno-" he began before the pitchy "o" sound triggered a laugh from Minho.

“Hey! As your teacher, I demand respect,” Jisung demanded, his voice hoarse. Minho’s laughter softened, but he couldn’t hold back another chuckle.

"You're cute," Minho remarked, catching Jisung off guard. He looked dumbfounded at the compliment, and Minho opened his eyes wide, realizing what he had said. Instead of explaining himself or ignoring what he’d said he opted for a confident smile and nodded toward the guitar. “Not that I mind having your eyes on me, but you should probably direct your attention to the guitar. I wanna learn something today.'' His tone was lighthearted. Jisung furrowed his brow, feeling as though Minho had implied he was objectifying him with his gaze. Obliging, Jisung shifted his focus to the guitar.

“I’ve heard you play, so I don’t really need to evaluate your skills.” Minho cocked his brow at Jisung’s words. “I think we should start with the basics.”

“How genius," Minho replied sarcastically.

“Shut up.”

Despite Jisung's guidance, it was evident that Minho had no natural affinity for the instrument. While it was normal to struggle initially, Minho seemed to let every word go in one ear and out the other. "Sorry, I thought this would be easier," Minho mumbled, his disappointment evident.

It pulled a sigh from Jisung, who felt a mix of exhaustion and understanding. “It’s alright, you’re still a noob," he said, causing Minho to cringe.

“We can continue the lesson another time by the way. I have to get back to work now,” Jisung announced.

Minho appeared slightly disappointed by the abrupt end but nodded in understanding. "What do you work with?" he asked, attempting to keep the conversation going.

“Music. I’m a ghostwriter and producer. I’m on a little break from my producing job right now, though. I’m returning to the job in a week or two, I think.”

"I see. That explains why you're so good at this," Minho commented, taking a sip from his tea and staring out the window. “I wish I could just suck the talent out of you. It would be less effort.”

Jisung snorted. “Kinky.”

“Shut up. You know what I meant.”

Despite Jisung's previous announcement that he had to leave, they found themselves sitting in an oddly comfortable silence.

Curiosity got the best of Jisung, prompting him to break it. “So why did you decide to pick up the guitar, and why are you so hellbent on getting good?” he asked, fiddling with his fingers by picking at the nail beds.

"It's to help a friend," Minho replied, not showing any interest in elaborating. Sensing Minho’s boundaries, Jisung respected his privacy and left it at that.

“Cool.”

Their lessons continued, and it granted Jisung the peace to enjoy his free time without constant noise music in the background. Not that he minded noise music at all, having been a part of the production of hits like God’s Menu, Thunderous, but this was a special case.

Maintaining professionalism during their sessions became increasingly challenging for Jisung, though. Minho's attention span was short, and he would often find himself distracted from the instrument. Pokes, pinches, impromptu horror movie marathons, and cooking escapades seemed to take precedence over Jisung's explanations of guitar techniques.

Minho had grown comfortable around Jisung surprisingly quickly, and to Jisung's surprise, he didn't mind. It was fun. Minho was fun.

Given Minho's slow progress with the guitar, Jisung felt as though their lessons would be endless, and strangely enough, it was sort of a relieving thought. It was less lonely now that he had a devil to tend to, however, Minho's carefree behavior made it difficult for Jisung to discern whether he simply enjoyed having Jisung's company or if he was genuinely this carefree, so he tried to maintain some sort of distance but often to no avail.

“Come on Minho, curve your fingers more. You like cats, right? Imitate their paws," Jisung instructed. The reference seemed to do the trick, as Minho managed to grip the guitar more properly. "Nice," Jisung added with a smile, and Minho beamed proudly.

After an hour or so of Jisung teaching him a simplified version of ‘Dance The Night Away’, Minho’s energy was seemingly spent. The guitar slumped into his lap and his head landed on Jisung’s shoulder.

Now, having a pretty dude lay on him would usually excite him, but instead because of who it was it made him anxious, so he rushed to remind Minho, "Hey, the lesson isn't over. At least learn to switch between the chords faster before giving up."

Minho groaned in response. “You’re comfy,” he mumbled and snuggled into the crook of Jisung’s neck.

Minho's warm breath tickled Jisung's skin, sending tingles throughout his body. He contemplated pushing Minho off but found himself captivated by the soft rhythmic breath against his body.

Looking down, he discovered that Minho had fallen asleep. It amazed him how quickly Minho had drifted off, but his dark circles spoke for the situation, so Jisung couldn’t find it in him to wake him up. He couldn’t even find it in him to adjust himself to a more comfortable position, afraid he’d awaken him, so he sat there, still, stiffened and awkward.

It appeared that Minho had no intention of waking up anytime soon. Before long, Jisung found himself succumbing to sleep as well, following Minho into his slumber.

Several hours later, they woke up, finding themselves curled up against each other, and although Jisung wanted it to mean more than it did, it obviously didn’t, seeming as Minho had laughed at the situation and gone on to make dinner without giving any hint it was anything but a funny blunder. They didn’t speak of it again.

Jisung found himself immersed in what had become a familiar routine as he strolled through the convenience store, reaching out for the mint chocolate ice cream that Minho was psychotic enough to love. A grimace tugged at his lips as he placed it in his shopping basket, silently questioning Minho's taste. But even with the peculiar flavor choice, Jisung couldn't help but smile at the thought of how Minho would react when he gave it later.

His phone interrupted his thoughts, and he assumed it was Minho, eager to rush him home for their scheduled lesson. However, he was taken aback when he saw Jeongin's name flashing on the screen.

The memories of their last encounter flooded his mind, the disappointment etched on Jeongin's face haunting him. With trepidation, his heart pounding, he answered the call.

“Hello? Innie?” Static crackled on the line, causing Jisung to furrow his brows. "Hello?" he called out, trying to make himself heard above the interference.

The static gave way to Jeongin's apologetic voice, and Jisung's tense shoulders relaxed slightly. "Sorry, I forgot to turn off my bass when I called. Hi."

Jisung responded with a soft "Hi" of his own

A thump sounded from the call before Jeongin started to talk again. “I uhm- I miss you Jisung. We all do. You might not believe me, but even Hyune wants you back.”

Bitterness tinged Jisung's heart at the mention of Hyunjin, but as he wanted his friend back, he bit his tongue, swallowing the sharp retort that threatened to escape, and hummed a reply instead.

Jeongin, perceptive as ever, sensed the sore spot and attempted to divert the conversation. "Sorry, sore topic I take it? Ugh, that was a stupid thing to say, wasn't it? Anyways, I really called to catch up, not to ruin your day..."

Jisung couldn't stay mad at Jeongin, his heart warming at the thought of his friend pouting to himself over his choice of words. He chuckled softly before speaking, the bitterness mostly melting away. “It’s okay. I missed you too for the record, almost all of you.” He couldn't help but be a little petty, but Jeongin didn’t point it out and instead just sighed and ignored it.

“So, tell me about how you’ve been,” Jeongin prompted.

Jisung started to walk towards the cashier to pay for his goods as he started to weave a tale of his lazy days and his wack meeting with Minho. Jeongin listened and gave reactions here and there, muttering stuff about Minho sounding eccentric and such, and Jisung eagerly expressed his agreement.

Jisung's voice danced with enthusiasm as he spoke about Minho, his words flowing freely and painting vivid pictures of their interactions. He couldn't contain his excitement, his energy propelling him forward as he rambled on, describing the quirks and endearing qualities that made Minho so captivating. Step by step, he climbed the final stairs leading to his front door, his stamina waning but his enthusiasm still bubbling over.

However, just as he was about to reach his door, Jeongin's voice cut through the air, injecting a peculiar thought into Jisung's mind. “It’s funny how I asked about you, but all I’ve been told about is your new boyfriend.” The words halted him in his tracks, his feet frozen in place. Confusion crept across his face, and he continued on, though a hint of disbelief lingered in his expression.

“Minho isn't my... We're just friends!" Jisung clarified. He shrugged his shoulders, even though Jeongin couldn't see, as if dismissing the assumption as absurd. His expression soured as thoughts of Minho flooded his mind, his inner turmoil hinting at a deeper truth he wasn't yet ready to face.

Jeongin's voice persisted. “Right,” Jeongin responded, dragging out the vowel sarcastically. “Just like Seungmin and Hyunjin are just frie-”

Jisung's calm demeanor suddenly shattered, his words cutting through the air with a startling intensity. "Will you shut the fuck up about that dude, Jeongin," he interjected, his voice eerily calm. The weight of his emotions simmered beneath the surface, his anger barely contained.

Jeongin's response held a hint of remorse. "Oh, sorry. I keep forgetting... No, I won't make excuses for myself. I really don't understand your weird feud, though. It's so silly."

“Whatever, man.” Jisung's exasperation was palpable as he huffed in frustration, ending the call abruptly. His hand instinctively reached for his keys, his fingers gripping them tightly as the cold metal clenched against his palm soothed him. He took a deep breath and looked up.

It was at that moment, just as he was about to turn towards his door to open it, that his eyes met Minho's shocked gaze. Vulnerability washed over Jisung, his defenses crumbling. He hastily thrust the ice cream into Minho's hands, a feeble attempt to divert attention from his current anger. Without uttering a single word, he darted inside.

The hurt in Minho's eyes left a sour taste in his mouth, a pang of regret echoing in his chest.

Chapter Text

“Let’s not do the lesson today, I’m not in the mood,” Minho declared abruptly, not bothering with a greeting as he swung open the door for Jisung. He appeared fresh out of the shower, his damp hair slicked back, and a bathrobe that left little to the imagination, forming an open V by his chest.

Jisung's smile faded in an instant, sensing a tinge of tension in Minho's voice. He shifted uneasily, feeling like he was crossing a boundary by asking, but he couldn't help himself. "Are you okay?" Jisung asked tentatively, his voice laced with genuine care. "Usually, you're so excited for the lesson. Did something happen? Is it because of yesterday...? Because if so, then you should know that I just needed a moment alone. It had nothing to do with you."

Minho clicked his tongue at the explanation and raised a brow with a half smile. “Nothing to do with me… I see, huh? I see," he mused.

Confusion creased Jisung's forehead, and he hastened to explain himself. "Just a small argument with a friend. Please don't be mad at me... Of all people, you're the one I least want to be mad at me. Please," he pleaded, his fingers fidgeting nervously. "I want to know if I did something wrong, said something wrong since you don't want to do the lesson." Despite his intense worry, he couldn't help but sneak another subtle elevator look at Minho, swallowing hard despite his will.

Minho’s eyes glimmered with curious interest, a sudden glimmer of a playful smile dancing on his lips. “Sorry if I’m overstepping,” Jisung quickly added, perceiving the silence as discomfort.

Minho’s smile widened. “Why would you be overstepping? We're friends, right? I wouldn't cook for a stranger, would I?" he mused, more to himself than to Jisung. After a brief pause of contemplation, he made up his mind. "No, I wouldn't," he decided, taking hold of Jisung's wrist and pulling him inside.

The irresistible aroma of kimchi jjigae wafted through the air, and suddenly, the cooking question made perfect sense. Minho let out a soft giggle. "I'm sorry if I confused you. The question was mostly an excuse to have a meal together."

"Oh," Jisung responded, relief flooding through him.

Minho continued, his voice sugar sweet but somehow cold. "As for your question, I'm actually doing fine. I just thought my fingers needed a break. I've been working on a new routine, and dancing with sore fingertips wouldn't be ideal.”

He casually guided Jisung to the petite dining table surrounded by three chairs and settled himself onto the seat adjacent to Jisung's, his bathrobe loosely draped over his body, revealing his long, slender legs from the mid-thigh and down.

Jisung attempted to follow up on the reply, but instead, a muffled sound escaped his lips. He blushed, feeling embarrassed by his lack of coherence.

"Pardon?" Minho inquired, obviously amused.

“You’re a dancer?” Jisung asked, his fluster evident.

Minho chuckled, his eyes forming soft crescent moons. "Yes, Jisung, I'm a dancer."

Jisung's gaze instinctively traveled down Minho's body, appreciating his well-toned physique, particularly his lower body. Suddenly aware of his wandering eyes, he quickly averted his gaze, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. Minho playfully crossed his arms and feigned shock. “Jisungie! Manners!”

Jisung swiftly leaped to his own defense, his words coming out in a hurried stumble. "I work out! I was just...uh...admiring your muscles. They make sense for a dancer!"

"So, you admit that you were checking out my body! My 'husband' won't be pleased about this," Minho teased, his smile mischievous, and his tone scandalised.

It made Jisung freeze in shock, and his heart clenched. “Husband?” he repeated, questioningly. The word lingered in his mind as he looked over at the third chair at the dining table, suddenly realizing the implication of its presence.

Confusion flashed across Minho's face for a moment before he burst into laughter. "Oh my god, Jisungie, I'm so sorry! You don’t know my friends, so of course you’d misunderstand my joke,” he said between laughs, trying to contain himself.

"What?" Jisung questioned, still trying to make sense of it all.

Minho ended up unable to hold down another laugh, the amusement still evident in his voice. “It’s just a friend of mine, I don’t even know why I said husband, he’s actually my ex. Well, not really. We’re fake divorcees,” he explained.

Jisung furrowed his brows, attempting to process the revelation. "So, you pretend to be divorced, but you're not?"

Minho nodded, his laughter subsiding. "Exactly. It’s a stupid running joke my friends and I have. Like, we act like a divorced couple, but in reality, we're just friends."

Jisung pouted playfully. "No offense, Minho, but you're not great at explaining things."

Minho shrugged and stood up to turn off a ringing clock and the stove. "I know... Explaining things really just isn't my strong suit. Just to be clear, though… You seemed pretty shocked.” With his words followed a cautious expression. “Your reaction wasn't because of the husband thing, right? Because if so then you have to know that I’m gay, and I’m not interested in being around homophobes.”

Jisung choked on his own spit, his eyes widening in surprise. "No way! Minho, I'm bi. And pretty confidently so," he blurted out.

Relief washed over Minho's face as he let out a deep breath and took the saucepan with his cat-themed oven gloves. "I knew I could trust my instincts. So, your expression must have been due to something else. Perhaps just surprise or..." He trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken.

In truth, Jisung wasn't even entirely sure why he had reacted that way, so he silently prayed that Minho would let it go.

“No that must be it,” he finished off with a cocked smile as he placed the dish on the table and sat down again.

"Yeah," Jisung managed to say, offering a weak smile.

They proceeded to savor their meal, indulging in the new 'Scream' movie, and eventually dozed off on the couch, finding themselves tangled up against each other once more.

Jisung woke up first, greeted with the view of an oddly satisfied looking Minho, and an apology text by Jeongin.

Chapter Text

Jisung's nerves were on high alert, and the culprit was none other than Minho. Lately, Minho's behavior had taken a sharp turn, veering into the realm of the audacious. Sure, he had always been one to say outrageous shit, but there was a newfound intensity that left Jisung somewhat stupefied. The once manageable eccentricities now seemed to spin around him like a whirlwind, making him all dizzy.

Minho's proximity was both comforting and unnerving, his behavior was something that made Jisung's heart skip a beat. The gentle brush of their arms as they moved around the kitchen, the soft press of Minho's chest against his back; each touch sent ripples of sensation through Jisung, an almost imperceptible thrill that he was acutely attuned to.

A whisper tickled his ear, and Jisung tensed as Minho's voice and arms encircled him. "Be careful not to cut yourself," Minho's voice whispered into Jisung's ear, a warm breath that seemed to linger longer than necessary. Jisung's pulse quickened as he absorbed the words, a fluttering sensation settling in the pit of his stomach.

Turning his head slightly, Jisung intended to quip back with a hint of irritation at his micromanaging. Yet, as their eyes met, a surge of awareness coursed through him. He quickly averted his gaze, his heart racing as he slipped out of Minho's grasp with a breathless laugh

Despite his best efforts to regain composure, his lips puckered into a perplexed frown, his eyes widening as he regarded Minho, who had retreated to the kitchen table. The vegetables that Jisung had been working on were now under Minho's skillful hands, his nonchalant demeanor unaffected by the abrupt distance between them.

It confused Jisung. Perhaps he was just reading too much into everything he thought to himself.

The night progressed and after they’d eaten, Jisung had begun singing his heart out to random songs as Minho took care of an application for an audition.

The familiar strains of "Hopelessly Devoted to You" echoed through the air, Jisung pouring his heart into the rendition. The chorus brought Minho's attention crashing back to Jisung, the overly dramatic intensity of the performance compelling him to look up from his task.

A crooked smile played on Minho's lips, his gaze a silent testament to the amusement that danced within his eyes. He watched, captivated, as Jisung twirled and swayed, his voice carrying raw emotion. The performance culminated in a dramatic descent to his knees, Jisung locking eyes with Minho in a gaze laden with concentration as he sang the last few lines. They then both burst into laughter.

With the transition to the next song, "Shoong" by Taeyong and Lisa, Minho's demeanor shifted, his mouth forming an endearing grin that allowed his front teeth to peek through. His voice carried a softness as he shared his thoughts, a trace of vulnerability beneath the words. "I'm auditioning with this song with a friend," he confessed, his lips then moving in sync with the lyrics as he swayed to the rhythm. The bobbing of his head held a languid grace, a subtle nod to the song's cadence.

With an air of playfulness, Jisung leaned his forearms onto Minho's thighs, using them as a makeshift table to support himself. His wide and expectant gaze met Minho's as he eagerly voiced his demand. “Bro! Show me," he implored, looking up at Minho with big pleading eyes of anticipation.

A faint blush tinted Minho's cheeks, and a muttered response about it being a duet escaped his lips as he shyly averted his gaze.

“I can stand in place of your partner and sway like those sunflowers from zombies vs. plants. Use me however you’d like, honestly,” Jisung said and shrugged.

His words evoked a big reaction of shock from Minho. His nostrils flared comically and his lips pressed together subtly to hold back a laugh. “I just wanna see you perform so bad,” Jisung continued albeit with a more hesitant tone, looking at Minho with hopeful eyes.

Minho, his shyness battling with a desire to share, cleared his throat and offered a tentative solution. “There isn't enough space in the apartment. I can… show you one of my progress videos, though.”

He then pulled up his phone and scrolled through his camera roll. Jisung's keen eye didn't miss the assortment of content, from a plethora of cat photos to quirky selfies Minho had taken with weird filters. Yet, what caught his attention were the candid shots of himself. He didn’t know whether to feel violated or happy Minho wanted pictures of him. His face scrunched up in displeasure at how unflattering most of them were. He considered himself a sexy dude, so it was a definite blow to his ego.

With a deliberate scroll, Minho navigated through his treasure trove of memories until he arrived at a video, a scene set within the confines of a white room with unassuming plywood flooring. The ambiance felt intimate, like a hidden corner of Minho's world that he was now inviting Jisung into, kind of like how Jisung felt about the recording studio at his company.

In the video, Minho was wearing a loose-fit black tee and matching sweatpants, an outfit that oozed casual comfort. Fatigue painted faint shadows beneath his eyes, yet the determination that gleamed within them was magnetic, captivating Jisung's attention. The sight of Minho's poised energy, the slight bounce of anticipation in his step, conjured an undeniable allure that kept Jisung’s eyes trained on the screen.

There was an oddly familiar guy to his side, wearing a face mask, with blonde hair and a smaller build compared to Minho.

Minho fast-forwarded the video until Lisa’s part in the song and pressed play.

A twinge of envy gnawed at Jisung as Minho and his partner melded into a sensuous dance, their bodies moving in a seamless choreography. Yet, Minho's fluid movements, a blend of sweetness and allure, served as a soothing balm for the sting of jealousy. It was so satisfying to watch him hit every beat. The performance struck Jisung at his core, and the visceral reaction etched itself across his face.

As the video ended, Jisung erupted into a string of heartfelt wows. With a gentle slap to Jisung's shoulder, Minho playfully shushed him out of embarrassment, a soft reprimand laced with a fondness that wrapped around Jisung like a gentle breeze, leaving him feeling delightfully weightless.

In an utterly adorable move, Minho playfully hid his face in the curve of Jisung's neck, taking a sharp, exaggerated inhale as if savoring the shared moment. Jisung couldn't help but entertain a delulu notion, a fleeting thought of Minho perhaps trying to take in his scent.

When Minho looked up from his hiding spot their noses brushed against each other. Minho's reaction, a cute scrunch of his features, played on Jisung's heartstrings like a familiar melody. An inexplicable pull seemed to lead Minho's gaze downward, and to Jisung it was as if the possibility of their lips meeting hung suspended in the charged air. But Jisung, ever the insecure one, responded with a forced chuckle and a deliberate glance away, allowing a moment of self-doubt to break the tension.

Returning his gaze, Jisung found Minho once again upright, his eyes distant, lost in thought.

As Jisung gazed at his clammy hands, a troubling thought skittered through his mind like a shadowy specter. I really should be careful not to cut myself, he thought, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. It felt as though the mere act of touching Minho could leave indelible scars and end up as another misstep in a long line of them. He couldn't afford to make such a mistake, not again.

Chapter Text

Two weeks had slipped through Jisung's fingers like a slippery eel, and he knew it was time to return to work. No matter how tedious, it was required of him unless he wanted to lose his job, besides, he’d missed it. If it hadn’t been for Minho’s company, he was sure he'd have gone back to work long ago. But a nagging thought reminded him that Minho’s company wouldn't foot the bill for his rent.

If only being a couch potato paid the bills; he'd be a millionaire by now.

However, there was one daunting task he had to face before diving back into his work, the meeting with his boss, Chris. Now, Chris was someone Jisung admired and respected, but he also feared him to some extent. The thought of disappointing Chris was almost as unbearable as facing his anger, so it sent chills down his back to imagine facing him. He was also his friend, though, so Jisung supposed he wasn’t totally scared shitless.

As he neared his workspace, a sense of dread enveloped him. The moments leading up to this meeting were filled with desperate attempts to delay the inevitable encounter. He meticulously chose a sandwich for lunch, taking more time than necessary. Then, deliberated over his iced coffee selection, making sure to drag it out with chin-stroking and dramatic sighs, even though he knew he would eventually settle for an iced americano, as he always did. He even pretended that the force of gravity was unusually strong, like that of the moon, causing him to take slow, deliberate steps.

Despite all his efforts, Jisung ended up by the door to Chris’ office eventually. Part of him had hoped that something would prevent him from reaching this point, a sign from the universe, perhaps, or an unexpected accident. The thought of a car crash seemed too extreme, so he considered a less painful option, like a bike accident. Anything to escape the impending meeting.

He found himself avoiding eye contact as he entered his office and settled into the chair.  But instead of a sternness or reprimand like he expected, Jisung was met with unexpected tenderness.

“Sung, look at me,”  Chris spoke, his voice gentle. His gaze was kind. It was the kind of look your mom gave you when you fucked up but seemed regrettable enough to be pitiful, and Jisung ended up blinking back something suspiciously similar to moisture in his eyes.

“Oh gosh, c’mere,” Chris said, leaning forward and reaching over the desk to pull Jisung into a comforting embrace. Jisung, overwhelmed by the unexpected display of understanding, felt a tear strike his cheek and opened his arms holding onto Chris tightly.

"I'm really sorry for everything and for ignoring you for the past three weeks," Jisung managed to say amidst the tears.

“It’s alright Sung, I’m just glad to see that you’re alright and back. You needed some time to yourself, and it wouldn't be right if I didn't respect that”, Chris said, rubbing calming circles into Jisung’s back with his thumb. “We can talk about everything else another time because right now, we need to get you up to date with your work. But how about we have dinner together today? We can talk then," Chris suggested, his words carrying a soft yet firm tone that made it clear that declining was not an option. Jisung nodded against Chris's shoulder.

They pulled apart, and Jisung was greeted with a bright smile from Chris. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

The day was fairly uneventful, aside from a loud welcome back from Changbin and a surprise encounter with his boyfriend, Felix, who had to pick up a sample for a choreo and ended up sticking around, allowing Jisung to catch up with him.

In Jisung's opinion, he and Felix were already friends, even though they had known each other for only as long as Felix had been dating Changbin which was about half a year, and it wasn’t often their schedules aligned, so it was a rare treat to spend time with him.

Their conversation led to Jisung venting his frustrations about his hopeless pupil, info loading on the poor guy, who’d only asked if he’d been well. What started off as remarks about his unskillfulness and lack of focus turned into random stories about his idiosyncrasies; quirks Jisung didn’t particularly mind but just felt compelled to talk about. Quirks, like how his eyes would flutter rapidly when he was trying to concentrate or how he’d fix his eyebrows and lids in the middle of conversations without any care as to how goofy it looked or even how he’d hum a tune when cooking and actually had a surprisingly pleasant voice.

Throughout Jisung's animated storytelling, Felix listened attentively, his expression unreadable. But there was a slight smile playing on his lips, easing Jisung's worries.

It couldn't be anything negative if Felix was responding with a smile, Jisung concluded.

-

When Jisung and Chris arrived at the hot pot place they had planned to eat at, they were met with disappointment as it was closed. Jisung couldn't help but let out a childish whine at the unfortunate turn of events.

"Ah, it's closed. Well, we could always eat elsewhere," Chris suggested, hoping to offer an alternative to salvage their dinner plans.

Despite Chris's suggestion, Jisung found himself clinging to the familiarity of the intended place. He wasn't in the mood for public spaces anyway, and so the thought of going somewhere else felt draining. He expressed his reluctance to Chris, stating firmly that they should just go to his place and eat in. The comfort of his own home just seemed more appealing to him at that moment.

Chris let out a deep sigh but agreed, understanding Jisung's mood. “Alright, Sung.”

They continued their way home, with Chris taking the initiative to order halal food through a phone call, so they could just relax on Jisung's couch when they reached his place.

The atmosphere in the apartment was initially silent even as they ate, but soon there was a barely hearable melody playing from the wall. Upon hearing the neighbor's strumming, Jisung smiled. It was incredibly quiet in his apartment, so when it sounded, it rang loud and clear in his ears.

After a while, Chris turned to Jisung with a serious expression. “So are you ready to have a conversation? About the last time I saw you, Jisung,” Chris asked, his tone gentle yet determined. Jisung turned towards him slowly. With a hesitant nod, he met Chris's gaze, preparing himself for the talk that was long overdue.

“I’m sure Minnie already said this to you, but we’re aware of the fact that we can’t just force you guys to get along. I do, however, reckon you were being unfair towards him, Jisung. He really is a nice guy, it’s just like you’ve labeled him as a bad guy in your mind and therefore anything he does makes you pop a blood vessel. I need you to make me understand why this is.”

Chris's words struck a chord within Jisung, and despite his surge of defensiveness, an introspection made him think twice before lashing out. Although it was annoying to hear, it also felt reasonable to Jisung that he’d want an explanation, so he twisted in his seat and answered. “Chris, he’s awful. He’s just so entitled, it drives me mad. I tried to get along with him, but he’d get all up in my business, and it was like no wasn’t in his vocabulary. He thinks his fucking looks make him deserving of his every demand.”

His words didn’t seem to sit right with Chris, who was increasingly looking more malcontent. “I do agree that he can be kind of too much sometimes, but it’s with good intentions. Also, I don’t appreciate what you’re saying about his looks making him entitled. He works hard to be perceived past that, and I know you’re aware of that, Jisung.”

He was right, Jisung did know, but even if he was wrong about that detail, he stood by what he’d said. “Whatever, he’s got privilege, and he’s aware of it. The way he acts like being good-looking is some kind of disability, pisses me off. Some of us have actual problems in life.”

Chris’ face scrunched together in a displeased grimace. His hands were tightly knit together and only clenched further against each other with Jisung’s every word. “You know what I think,” Chris said, lightly putting a hand on Jisung’s shoulder to keep his focus. “I think you’re letting your insecurities run rampant. You were on a high horse before Hyunjin joined us, and you took one look at his pretty face and felt intimidated. It’s okay to want to be in the spotlight, but you just can’t handle sharing the spot. Get over yourself, Sung, and before you victimize yourself, you gotta know that I say this lovingly. You’re holding yourself back. You know, I really feel like you’d get along swimmingly if you didn’t purposely misinterpret his every move.”

Jisung stood there, stunned by his friend’s words, feeling foolish for thinking he could just brush aside what had happened. The shame gnawed at him, and tears pricked at his eyes, threatening to spill over. “This is so unfair. Why aren’t any of you ever on my side?” he blurted out, the words tumbling out of him without filter or restraint.

Instead of a reply, Chris gave him a disappointed look. It hurt to know that he deserved it, but his pride couldn’t allow him to own up to it. “When have I ever not been? Even now, when I’m standing up for Jinnie, I’m still doing it for your sake. I’m worried about you, and everyone misses you. Besides, having all that hate simmering within you isn’t doing you any good. I’m not interested in persuading you if you’re not willing to put your pride aside, though,” Chris stated firmly, his voice tinged with concern and frustration.

Chris held Jisung's gaze silently as if waiting for him to admit defeat. However, it only made Jisung look away, pouting childishly, unwilling to surrender. Sensing that Jisung had no intention of heeding his advice, Chris rose from his seat and spoke with a mix of finality and regret. “I’ll see you at work.” He packed up his things and mumbled a farewell before leaving.

As Chris walked out of the room, leaving Jisung alone with his thoughts, a profound sense of emptiness settled within him. The weight of Chris's words lingered in the silence, echoing through the apartment walls.

Jisung stared at the closed door, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. Part of him wanted to dismiss Chris’s words as baseless accusations, fueled by favoritism toward Hyunjin. But deep down, he knew there was truth in what Chris had said. It was painful to admit, but he had allowed his insecurities to cloud his judgment and fuel his resentment.

Jisung walked over to his window and gazed outside, seeking solace in the outside world. The city skyline stretched out before him, a reminder of the vastness of the world beyond his conflicts. 

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.

Chapter Text

It had become a routine for them, these moments in the park. Jisung had for a long time now felt perfectly comfortable with Minho, but being outdoors with him brought upon him a whole new level of unexpected serenity. Jisung truly did dislike being outside, going for walks and such, or so he thought before, but it was fun with Minho, and he wanted to do so many things with him. It made him wonder whether it really was going outside that he hated or whether he just used to feel lonely and seeing the many people having fun together outside reminded him of it.

Jisung's fingers continued their gentle caress through Minho's hair, reveling in the softness beneath his touch. He watched as Minho's eyes scanned the expanse of the sky, searching for hidden wonders among the clouds. He looked so comfy as he snugged closer to Jisung, his head resting in his lap.

A contented smile graced Minho's lips, and Jisung's heart swelled with adoration. The sight of Minho bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun was a painting of beauty. His. It was a sight that made Jisung’s heart ache with endearment. At that moment, he couldn't imagine anything better than being here at that moment.

"I'm glad we started going out like this," Minho murmured, his voice a tender whisper that broke the peaceful silence. It carried a hint of vulnerability as if he feared ruining the moment.

Jisung nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Yeah, it's nice. I never thought I'd enjoy being outdoors so much."

Minho chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Well, you do have me to thank for that, don't you?"

Jisung rolled his eyes, but his fondness for Minho was evident. "Yeah, yeah, you can take credit for getting me out of my cave."

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the shadows cast over their surroundings growing with its descent, Minho shifted in Jisung's lap, turning to face him. His eyes held a glimmer of mischief, and Jisung couldn't help but be captivated.

"What?" Jisung asked, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

Minho reached up, his gentle fingers brushing a stray strand of hair behind Jisung's ear, his touch sending a shiver of warmth down Jisung's spine. "You know, I've been thinking..."

Jisung's heart skipped a beat, curiosity piqued. "About what?"

A mischievous grin spread across Minho's face, and Jisung found himself leaning in closer, craving to hear Minho's words.

“About u-“

Jisung's anticipation was abruptly interrupted by the ringing of his phone. The sudden sound jolted Jisung to his feet, causing him to collide with Minho in a clumsy and unintentional collision.

A rushed apology tumbled out of Jisung's mouth as he fumbled for his phone, Minho sitting up straight, Jisung’s hand trembling as he recognized the caller.

As expected, it was Chris.

After talking to Minho, Jisung felt like it was time to text Chris and just own up to things. He'd tried his best to explain himself without coming off as a buck-passer, and it seemed like it worked. He really wanted Chris to know how sorry he was and how genuine he was about fixing things. Chris, being the understanding person he always is, suggested that Hyunjin and Jisung meet face-to-face. That idea scared Jisung, but he knew deep down it was necessary. So, he agreed to it. When Chris called, it was pretty obvious what it was about.

Jisung’s voice came out croaked as he muttered a greeting.

“Hey Jisung,” Chris responded, his voice surprisingly light and upbeat. “Hyune is available on Thursday if you are.”

Jisung hesitated, a sudden anxiety creeping in. However, Minho's comforting touch came to his rescue. With a gentle scratch on Jisung's head and his fingers weaving through his hair, Minho managed to distract him from the bad butterflies with pleasant ones.

Summoning his courage, Jisung mustered a response. "Yeah, I can do that," he finally replied, his voice steadier now, buoyed by Minho's reassuring presence.

“I’m glad to hear Jisung,” he said warmly. “Y’know, I’m really proud of you. I'm not sure what prompted this change, but I'm genuinely happy to see you’re coming around and making amends."

“Yeah…” Jisung muttered under his breath staring straight at Minho with a fond smile. It didn’t seem like Minho noticed as he was looking away into the distance, attempting to give them the illusion of privacy. Jisung chuckled at him.

“Alright, I reckon you two will be able to deal with this on your own then, and remember to apologize to Innie for being mean too! See you at work, Sung!”

“Yes sir,” Jisung jokingly responded.

As the call with Chris concluded, Jisung's gaze shifted back to Minho, his eyes instantly captivated by the sight before him. Every detail of Minho's appearance seemed to be enhanced,
illuminated by the last few rays of the sun. The gentle flutter of his long lashes, the depth and brilliance of his eyes, the alluring curve of his lips, and the tousled strands of his fluffy brown hair. A symphony of emotions stirred within Jisung's chest, causing his heart to flutter and skip a beat.

Lost in the depths of his admiration, Jisung couldn't contain his whispered words, their sincerity carrying a touch of awe. "So pretty," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

At that very moment, Minho's gaze met his own, their eyes locking in a sideways glance. Jisung was caught off guard by the intensity that radiated from Minho's captivating stare, a magnetic force that drew him closer

Then, Minho's voice, filled with vulnerability and longing, broke the silence, delivering a question that hung in the air like a delicate thread. "Pretty enough to kiss?"

It caught him off guard, but before he could fully comprehend the depth of Minho's question, his body seemed to act on its own accord, driven by a rush of emotions he couldn't suppress. Without hesitation, he nodded a silent affirmation.

Their lips converged in a tender and gentle kiss. The world around them faded into insignificance.  For Jisung, the sensation was nothing short of heavenly, a taste of bliss that set his senses ablaze, and his hand reached for Minho’s nape wanting to press him closer.

Minho's hand pressed against Jisung's thigh, a gentle squeeze that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through Jisung's body, prompting a soft moan to escape his lips. Minho seized the opportunity, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched Jisung's own, their tongues intertwining in a delicate dance, and Jisung never wanted it to stop.

When Minho eventually pulled back to catch his breath, Jisung's desperation for his nearness remained insatiable. With an eagerness born from an unquenchable yearning, Jisung surged forward, his lips seeking Minho's once more, as if unable to bear even the briefest separation. Minho chuckled against the fervent press of their mouths, before drawing in a deep breath through his nose. The feeling of his breathing tingled against Jisung’s face, and the feeling of Minho all over him became increasingly addictive.

Their moment, however, was abruptly interrupted as Minho placed a gentle hand on Jisung's chest, gently urging him away. "We're in public…" Minho gently reminded him, clearing his throat.

Jisung couldn't help but giggle, unable to contain his overwhelming joy. He responded by playfully showering Minho's face with quick pecks. "I don't care. Not when I finally get to do this."

Minho shook his head affectionately, a smile tugging at his lips. "You're such a dork."

“Hopefully what just happened makes me your dork," Jisung cheekily replied, his eyes sparkling with adoration.

In response, Minho leaned in for a soft, lingering kiss filled with pure affection, devoid of any lust.

Then, a huff of laughter left Minho, causing Jisung to pull back and frown. “You did not just laugh mid-kiss… Am I that terrible?” Jisung asked, trying to mask his insecurity with a playful tone.

Minho’s eyes widened. “No, no! Jisung, I just laughed at a random thought... Y’know I had a split moment way back where I thought you were a homophobic dude-bro, and now you’re here sucking my face off.”

Jisung broke out into laughter. “Dude, that’s gold.”

“Truly.”