Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jisung’s never hated the sun, or his own existence.

Right now, sitting up in some other person’s bed, with a sore butt and no shirt and a completely different pair of shorts that he swears he would never own, and nursing a literally mind-blowing hangover, Jisung somewhat hates both the sun, and his own existence.

The morning light is soft, yet it feels harsh on his prickling skin and oh, would you look at that. There’s a pair of big boba eyes of a furry friend peeking at him from below the bed.

“Hello there…”

The cat’s white nose sniffed at Jisung’s hand that he let hang loose from the bed, not wanting to risk any sudden head rush after bending down. One meow and a purr of approval later, Jisung had a lapful of an orange tabby cat.

And then it all came rushing back as he sighed and inhaled the unknown and comforting lavender scent of the bedsheets he was buried in.

Drinking in the club, joining the blond- Hyunjin- after he saw Minho, asking Hyunjin to join him in his Blatant Voyeurism™️, making sure to have Minho look at him and then having Minho up and against him, rubbing, grinding, pulling him plush against his chest and hearing Hyunjin laugh in the background. He remembered Seungmin stopping Minho, somewhat threatening the elder and remembered pulling Minho out of the bustling club by his tie, stumbling out in the cold night, pulling him towards a side alley, pushing him up rough against a wall and slotting their mouths together.

He remembered how Minho seemed unperturbed by their surroundings, tightening his hold around Jisung’s waist, one hand tilting his head at an angle that was inching towards his neck more and more with each second that their kiss deepened. The music and the thudding of the beat in the background dimmed and Jsung’s eyes fluttered open, the sting in his lips spreading tingles all over his body.

“Listen,” he remembered Minho leaning down to press their foreheads together even as he panted harshly, his breath cold and warm on Jisung’s cheeks at the same time. “I have been out of the loop for so long, I can’t even remember the last time I did this. Are you sure you want to leave with me?-”

He remembered pushing forward and capturing the elder in a searing kiss again, making sure to grip the hair at the end of his neck in his fingers, relishing in the way Minho hissed in his mouth, breaking away once he was sure there was no breath left in his chest. “You’re hot, I am hot. There’s no way I am not doing this just because you think you won’t be able to show off your experience, cause I sure as hell have a lot of it. Let me guide you, if that’s fine?”

A shudder tore through Jisung when he remembered being pushed into a taxi, a tangled mess of clashing teeth, lips, spit and limbs.

But then nothing came to mind after that.

And with how his back and butt was sore, he doubted they even left any stone unturned. Another throb in his head had him groaning and the cat jumped off his lap, sauntering off somewhere he couldn’t see.

“You okay?” Jisung jumped at the question, regretting that action when a sharp sting travelled up his spine when he jerked his head towards the voice.

And oh, helloooo handsome.

If he remembered correctly, and he hoped he remembered correctly, Minho was a dance instructor, at university level and it showed. One could easily see the efforts he might be putting in his art if Jisung could easily see the veins sticking out even when he was just leaning on the doorframe while casually folding his hands over his chest- oh my god, his pecs- wearing a simple sweatshirt sweatpants combo.

“Uhm, Jisung?”

Jisung blinked.

And then finally tore his gaze away from Minho’s chest to look up to his face, aww, which was red and his eyes flitted everywhere but at Jisung.

“Do you- Are you okay? Do you need me to bring something for you…? Painkillers maybe?”

He blinked once again, slowly this time to avoid blacking out. “Yes.”

Yes to what, he doesn’t even know. He was just surprised at how groggy and absolutely wrecked he sounded.

“Water first, please.” Minho nodded after a moment and left Jisung to his tools as he wandered out of the room.

If his drunk self hadn’t hogged down on Minho the moment they had walked in through the front door, then he had nothing to do with himself and he was ready to die. Cause who in their right fucking mind would not claim this beauty of a man? Who wouldn’t want to be associated with this majestic, majestic creature?

With another groan he buried his head in his hands, and what seemed like a mixture of Minho’s scent- Oh my fucking god- and the fabric softener, and the typical scent of the cat shampoo that Felix used in his shelter went right up his nose and for some reason; He felt at peace, even with the raging headache and all.

Yet another meow broke his reverie and this time though, there was a cautious grey tabby sniffing at him. Oh wow, Minho had not one, but two cats, how wonderful.

This man was the man of his dreams and god forbid Minho have any soulmate or a soulmark, Jisung would be shattered.

Just like a stone thrown at glass, that thought broke something in him.

That’s right.

Minho could have a soulmark.

Minho could have a soulmate somewhere out there, and Jisung- Jisung was just a nobody. He was- Oh my god, what if Minho was cheating on his soulmate with Jisung? That- Holy shit, that would be scandalous.

Especially since Jisung doesn’t know how that would feel, he doesn’t have a soulmate, or a soulmark. But if Minho had one, god forbid please lord, he doesn’t know what he would do of this new found infatuation.

“Dori, no. Get down.” Jisung lifted his head at the sharpness of Minho’s tone, and saw the cat- Dori, he believes- ready to smack at his head with their paw, but apparently Minho had guessed the little one’s plan of action.

“He’s- Sorry about him, just a little curious.” Minho chuckled awkwardly and Jisung stared up at him for a moment.

The pretty ones were always usually straight, taken or both.

Something in Jisung crushed. He swallowed before accepting the glass held out to him. And gulped down the water in record time, Minho choked beside him. “Woah, woah. Slow down!”

He caught Minho’s eye over the rim of the glass before exaggerating his slurping noise while staring down the cat dad- that is such a brilliant title.

“You… Okay… Uhm… Do you… Do you need something more? Br-Oh yeah, I was thinking… Pancakes… If you’re fine with it?” Goddamn, when Jisung says this man is so fine. Personally, he’s never had to wait back to do the after morning talk. Never. He either left, kicked someone out, or was kicked out by the person he was with- Rather spending the night with that person.

But look at him.

Being taken care of.

He was going to die at the hands of this man’s chivalry.

“...Jisung?”

He blinked, for like, the third time in a row.

“Oh yeah, pancakes…” And he hoped something fell on him, cause Han Jisung what the fuck was that squeaky ass voice? He cleared his throat a bit. “Pancakes are nice. I love pancakes.”

Minho nodded with a thoughtful expression on his face as he started stepping back.

“So, uh… Pancakes it is… Do you… Do you need something more? Anything else? Coffee, maybe?”

Oh, why does he have to be so considerate.

“Uhm, no! Than- Thanks for ask- Oh, hi there.” Right in middle of what would’ve been his awkward rant, a cat- This one was an orange tabby too, but he could tell that this wasn’t the same one as before- jumped up on the bed, immediately demanding attention from Jisung, plopping upside down in Jisung’s lap.

That made him giggle, despite his situation.

And Minho inhaled sharply beside him.

“That’s… That’s Doongi… He’s… Yeah, he’s a bit breaching- You know what? Okay, I need to say this, I am not… I am not like this usually, it’s just… I have no idea what I am doing right now, and I am panicking on the inside, even though I might not show it.”

It was showing, but Jisung didn’t mind because that behaviour, the loser man behaviour, was the cutest, most attractive thing that Jisung had ever seen.

“Uhm, it’s… I don’t… “ He giggled. “I have no idea what I am supposed to do either, to be honest.”

“You knew what you had to do last night very very well though… And please don’t laugh like that, I’ll die.”

Fuck Lee Minho with that loser rizz.

“Wow okay, we’re directly going down that road?”

“I thought we were already on the freeway with all that happened, wouldn’t you too?”

A laugh bubbled, falling free from Jisung’s lips and Minho’s face lit up with a small smile.

“Do you… Maybe wanna join me? In the kitchen?” A tingle zapped right up Jisung’s spine and for a second the world seemed bright.

“Uh… Yeah. If you don’t mind. I… I have the cooking skills of a 9 year old, by the way.”

Minho laughed out loud.

The world seemed brighter.

Chapter Text

Minho’s never had the urge to rip off the skin tape on his wrist; he’s never had the urge this bad before.

He wanted to take it off, brandish it in Jisung’s face and he wanted to see how the adorable, sweet, honey boy would react to his red soulmark.

Another rejection, he could face. Another rejection after the amazing night that they had, the night where Jisung’s tears soaked through his tape and wiped off a part of it; He couldn’t face the rejection of the one person that had managed to get past fate's tattoo.

He could feel it. Minho could feel the way Jisung was sitting on the dining table and staring at his back. The base of his neck had that tingling feeling every time any student stared for too long when he was teaching a new choreo.

“Like what you see?”

Now, mind you, Minho did not, in the slightest, want to be a smart mouth.

But he was nervous, and he got sarcastic, rude, and sometimes over confident whenever he was nervous.

He didn’t mean it, the smug undertone and the cockiness. It just happened.

“I do, actually…”

And his chest tightened.

Fuuuuuuck, Jisung was going to be the death of him.

“Uhm, I… Yeah, good taste.” Dori was going around his legs as he flipped another pancake on the pan and the boy sitting behind laughed softly.
“You know, for the front that you’re putting up right now… You’re a loser. A very cute loser. I love to see that.”

His breath hitched and he turned his attention behind, towards Jisung. The chipmunk-looking guy was perched on one of the chairs, one knee tucked below his chin and his other leg left hanging a few inches off the ground, as Soongie infinitely went round and round around it.

The fond smile on his face made Minho’s head spin and on god, how he wished he could pepper kisses all over his little face, and his cheeks, and his lip-

“Ow, damn!”

Jisung jumped when Minho left the spatula in his hand, the metal making noise as it went down. The pain of the burn caught up with Minho and the dance instructor drew away, frowning at the sting.

“Minho! Oh my god, are you okay? Let me see…”

And Minho downright panicked. He tried to draw away his hand, he really did. But the boy, the cute little adorable morning fluff of a whirlwind had already caught hold of his arm with a concerned little scowl.

Jisung’s hands were soft, and warm. Just like the night before. The thought made Minho squirm, but that uncomfort was immediately shadowed over by the panic as he saw Jisung’s attention shift to the slightly peeled off skin tape.

Oh fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Jisung was going to find out the soulmark.

He would learn about him being a rejected soulmate.

And then he would leave.

With disgust.

And Jisung was going to think that Minho was pretentious, a fool for- for rejecting his soulmate and, oh fuck- Jisung was going to hate him for the night that they spend together, even if it-

“That doesn’t look bad, does it?”

A finger trailed over Minho’s burn, right beside his wrist, the mark. And the dog-eared corner of the tape, Jisung fixed it.

Minho’s eyes found Jisung’s and he saw nothing, not a single ounce of judgement in his eyes. Rather, he saw concern. Understanding. Patience.

That punched a breath out of his chest.

“It’s not… As bad as it seems. A bit of ointment will help.”

“You’re not making this easy, and I don’t even know why.”

“Someone has to keep you on your toes.”

Something akin to relief and warmth, and the feeling of sitting in a warm room after braving a snow storm raged in his entire body, and suddenly he was acutely aware of the mole sitting on Jisung’s cheek.

He wanted to reach out and caress it, but oh shit, Jisung was still holding his hand.

Minho cleared his throat.

“I… I’ll set the table. Have a seat, yeah?”

Jisung lingered a bit, of course he did. A soft smile here, and a gentle squeeze to his hand later, Jisung turned around again to sit in the same chair that he was sitting in before. And Minho’s mind, which was spinning in a haywire panic before, regained its reins again.

“Oh, if you don’t mind me asking about your cats… Could you introduce them?”

Minho felt like the world was brighter, warmer, somewhere the birds were chirping and nature was happy. The plates in his hands, carefully balanced over the other as his other hands held the syrup and the butter, clinked softly and Jisung got up in a jiffy to help Minho.

“Sure, let’s… Let’s do that. We’ll begin with the grey one. He’s easier to notice.-”

“Both your orange cats have different noses, that’s how you tell them apart right?”

He blinked. Then he blinked some more.

It took Hyunjin three weeks after being introduced to his cat children to notice the difference between Soonie and Doongie. And here was Jisung. Not even 12 hours spent in his apartment, and he could already tell his cats apart.

Fuck, he was going to fall hard for this boy, wasn’t he.

Jisung’s nose twitched at Minho’s silence, and a small frown formed between his eyebrows, hands working slowly to set his plate right infront of him. “Am I- Was that wrong?”

“No! Oh, no. It’s just… You’re not wrong, it’s just… How did you do that? How- How did you easily tell them apart? Cause Hyunjin- My assistant from the club. He’s known me for like, 5 years now, and he still can’t tell them apart…”

“No way! 5 years and he still can’t tell the cuties apart?! That’s crazy!”

Minho had never felt this way.

Maybe he did in the prior years, when he was with his soulmate. His actual soulmate, but that was an illusion, and to be honest he did not want to think of his dick of a soulmate right now, not when he was spending time with Jisung. Oh, but what if Jisung was-

“Hey…”

Jisung’s gaze was the softest and more concerned than he had ever seen. That look, he had only seen once in his life, when he went back to Gimpo after his mark turned red, and his mom opened the door to his childhood door, just for her smile to crumple in tears and the same look Jisung sported now.

“You… went somewhere, right now.” His mole shifted with how his cheek rose slightly with a tilt of his head.

Minho’s mind came back to the present, and he bit his lip as he shook his head, playing with the piece of pancake that he had broken off in his plate. “No… nothing…”

A brief silence stretched and Minho felt the chasm in his chest sink deeper with each moment. He had ruined it, somehow. Now Jisung was going to find him weird.

“Okay, quick question… Do you mind if I take my plate to the couch in your living room?”

Wow, that was quick. Jisung didn’t even want to sit in the same room with him, much less close to him.

“Uh, yeah, I mean-”

“No, just cause… I was coming in here, and I saw that… your window shows the Han river view. And it’s just… It’s been a small wish of mine, that I’ve always wanted to have my breakfast early morning in the sun, in an apartment as warm as yours and the river view. So like… Pretty please?”

Oh.

“Oh.”

Jisung giggled in response. “What? What’s with that look?”

“No, it’s… You… You wanna eat in the living room for the view?”

“Yeah, silly! Wait, what did you think?”

“Nothing.” Minho gulped down the air that got stuck in his throat before starting again. “You’re right though, the view from the living room is good. We sho- We can shift to the couch, if you want.”

“Boy, I was born ready.” With a skip and a hop, Jisung’s already making his way down the hallway with a shimmy in his shoulder and a small giggle and a hum of a song that had Minho slumping back on his chair.

A slow smile replaced his frown and a small exhale of air from Minho made Jisung pause in his steps.

“Ay… You're gonna join me, right? I forgot the syrup anyway. Bring it out to me, why don’t ya’?” Soonie weaved through his crossed legs, and in front of him, the bottle of syrup that Jisung ‘forgot’ rested neatly on the edge of the table.

This boy was gonna be the death of him, and good lord, Minho wouldn’t even mind.

He bit back a grin, pushed himself up and nodded as he grabbed the syrup, and followed Jisung’s trotting out to the living room. Jisung beelined towards the couch immediately criss-cross-apples-saucing on it, facing the window.

The sun was god sent and the view was perfect.

“You like the view?”

“Right now, I do.”

Jisung swooned, his plate of pancakes precariously close to dropping. “Oh, you.” And then giggled, the sound of which went straight to Minho’s heart. The syrup was set on the table and Minho joined him on the couch, a few feet of distance between him and Jisung’s arm, accented by the pillows that he had fluffled earlier the night before.

Even with the distance, an invisible thread seemed to pull him towards him and god, how Minho wished he could just sidle up to the boy in front of him.

“You know…” Minho snapped out of his trance, eyes immediately finding Jisung’s. The backdrop of the Han River and the fluttering curtains on the window pan, the sunlight pouring in, the sound of the early morning bustle just starting, and Jisung’s shadow in the foreground of it all, an image that he just knows his brain had seared into existence in his cortex. “This is good.”

God, it is.