Archive of Our Own

“He’s nice,” Dahyun threw out, feigning nonchalance, as she passed Minho a bowl of soup.

“I’m sure he is,” Minho responded with resolute indifference.

“He’s cute.”

“So am I.”

Minho brought his palms up to his cheeks, smiling sweetly to both his father and his father’s girlfriend.

Mr. Lee scraped his knife across his plate pointedly. “We’re inviting Hyejin and Jaeyoon over for a movie night on Saturday. I expect you to be there.”

Minho released a breath. At least he had an excuse. “I have dance practice.”

“Oh, your dad said your practice ended at seven,” Dahyun noted with a nervous smile. “I thought we could all get together around eight. Watch something scary, eat sickening amounts of popcorn. Argue over who would die first in our own horror movie even though we all know it’d be your clumsy father.”

“Hey—“

Minho smiled at their bickering. He liked his father’s girlfriend. They’d been dating for six months now--well, Minho had known Dahyun for six months; he suspected his father courted her for much longer before he actually introduced them. Mr. Lee needn’t have worried, though. Dahyun was funny, just sarcastic enough to take Minho’s constant teasing. Honestly, if he thought about it for too long, maybe his dad was saving his girlfriend from Minho by waiting so long to introduce them rather than the other way around.

She was sweet for wanting to help Minho find a boyfriend, going as far as roping her own daughter into bringing over a friend for him to connect with. She meant well, she did.

So maybe that’s why he said it. It was true that he didn’t have time for dating with graduation so soon, but he definitely didn’t have time to disappoint Dahyun, who patted the top of his dad’s head like they were teenagers, Dahyun who managed to place an uncharacteristic pink blush across his dad’s cheeks.

“I’m dating someone,” he’d said.

And without further question or doubt, Dahyun replied, “Oh, then bring him to movie night with you. If he dies later than your dad, I approve.”

_______

“You’re an idiot,” Changbin stated plainly.

Minho nodded.

“You could have just gone to movie night and told her the next day that there was no chemistry, that you didn’t like the guy.”

Minho nodded.

“You could have said you had plans after dance practice. I would have covered for you.”

Minho nodded, and Changbin kicked his lying form from where he sat in his computer chair.

“Say something. Do something. The damage is done, now we need a plan.”

Minho sat up: a familiar routine. He didn’t know the smell of the dark blue carpet in Changbin’s room by heart without making a habit of spilling his fuckups to his best friend and his signature tough love.

“Is there anyone you’ve been talking to? There was that one guy you had that group project with?” Woojin, Changbin’s brother, suggested. If Changbin was the one to kick him while he was down, Woojin was always the one to dress his wounds. He graduated last year, lived in the next town over, but not one evening in the past six months that Minho and Changbin were both back at home for the night did Woojin miss the opportunity to come see them. He was as close to a big brother as Minho’s ever had.

Minho wrinkled his nose. “He wanted to take me to a wrestling match.”

“Should have told him you could wrestle in the sheets in the comfort of your own apartment,” Changbin joked, and Woojin threw his favorite gyu plushie directly at his brother’s head.

“Be helpful for five minutes, please.”

“No,” Minho quickly interjected to prevent the brotherly but ultimately distracting fight brewing beneath their conversation. “To answer your question, no. I’m not talking to anyone. That’s why I didn’t want to meet this guy. I’m too busy preparing for my thesis, auditions, too. If I want a job in the next three months, I can’t have any distractions.”

“Yeah, I understand.” And Woojin sounded like he really did; he always did. “I think you have two options.”

Minho climbed into Changbin’s bed and sat with his back against the wall and his head on Woojin’s shoulder.

“One, you keep up the rouse that you have a boyfriend but you say he can’t come to the movie night. Could be easier said than done if your parents pester you to meet him, though.”

Minho already knew that wouldn’t work. They’d be immediately suspicious, and he didn’t want Dahyun to ever know that he lied to her. “And two?”

“Two, you find yourself a fake boyfriend. Take him to movie night. Wait a week, tell your parents you broke up.”

“A fake boyfriend? What is this? A drama?” Changbin snorted from the corner of the room. “Wait, Minho hyung is one of the most dramatic people I know,” he said, and then more contemplatively, “Maybe this makes total sense.”

This time, Minho was the one to hurl a plushie across the room.

Woojin tried to keep them on track. “Do you have any friends your dad hasn’t met yet that would be willing to just like, hold your hand during a movie?”

Minho thought about that. His dad knew Hyunjin and Felix from the dance studio, knew Jeongin and Seungmin from his birthday hangout. Going to college so close to home always had its advantages, but now he wished his dad was the kind who knew his major and his break schedule and that was it.

There were a few acquaintances he’d never had a reason to bring home, but none of them Minho could say he felt comfortable cashing in a favor like this one with.

“You know Changbinnie, I never once ratted you out when your mom called me when you were supposed to be sleeping over at my house when we were in high school when you were really driving to the river with that—“

“I am not pretending to be your boyfriend, Lee Minho. I’ll go tell my mom right now that I hooked up for the first time in the backseat of her old car, I’ll do it.”

“Okay, what we’re not going to do is that ,” Woojin pleaded. “You have a day or two to sort this out, Minho. Why don’t you sleep on it and we can FaceTime tomorrow after class?”

“Fine,” Minho grumbled, but he didn’t forget to give Woojin a skeleton-squashing hug on his way out the door.

_________

minho :
question

hyunjin :
answer

felix :
answer

minho :
do you have any friends that are 1) cool 2) willing to be paid with food

hyunjin :
i mean
yes
but what would they be getting paid for ???

Minho rolled over and took a deep breath. He knew Woojin told him to sleep on it, but 2am in the darkness of his bedroom brought more anxiety than it was worth. Maybe he’d get lucky and be able to resolve this tonight.

Though typing out his predicament and seeing his own idiocy in words suddenly didn’t seem worth it either.

felix :
jesus hyung okay let me think

hyunjin :
i’m also thinking~~

Instead of staring at the lack of typing bubbles in the chat, Minho quickly copied his explanation and sent it to Jeongin and Seungmin accompanied by the same question. He got a quicker and flatter ‘no’ from them both.

Minho buried his face into his pillow. This was stupid. He was stupid. All he had to do was explain to Dahyun how important these last few months before graduation were to him and she’d understand. Changbin was right. He could have handled this a dozen better ways. He’d somehow managed to stress himself out even more by attempting to keep himself distraction-free.

His phone pinged, and Minho prepared himself for the let down from his last two hopes. What he saw instead was Changbin’s name staring back at him.

changbin :
i think i have a solution

_________

“You know the guys I make music with?” Changbin asked the following day. They both had a break every Tuesday and Thursday at noon, and they usually spent that precious hour of free time shoving food in their faces; today, however, called for actual conversation.

“Yeah, of course.”

Changbin was a diligent student, always had been, even when his classes consisted of calculus instead of composition. Now as a music major he read every chapter, practiced every chord, sang every melody, but the technical areas of production didn’t interest him nearly as much as the catharsis of actually creating a song with not just skill but also heart. So he spent his evenings and his weekends working with two friends he met at a workshop two summers back. They didn’t attend their university, and Minho strongly suspected Changbin was embarrassed to introduce him to his cool rapper friends.  

“Jisungie is cool, like really nice once you get to know him, and I think if you bribe him with food, he’d agree.”

Minho smiled at his best friend’s explanation that mirrored so closely the one he gave Hyunjin and Felix the night before.

“How can you be sure?”

“I may have texted him last night and asked a highly hypothetical question: ‘if I asked you for a favor that involved a movie, a cute boy, and said cute boy holding your hand, what would you say?’”

“That’s highly misleading given what this is actually about.”

“Well, it was a foot in the door, Lee Minho, which is more than you can say, huh?”

Technically, that was true, so Minho took a bite of his sandwich in response.

“I’m going to give you his number, I told him you’d reach out to him today. It can’t hurt to explain the situation and ask, worst he can say is no.”

Minho shuddered at the possibility of finally meeting one of Changbin’s closest friends with a first impression consisting solely of ‘I’m an idiot’ and also at the realization that he would have to type this whole mess out a third time in the past twelve hours, but he thanked his best friend regardless by sliding the rest of his sandwich across the table. He tapped hurriedly on his phone while Changbin ate.

minho :
hey, is this jisung? this is changbin’s friend lee minho

To Minho’s surprise, Jisung responded quickly. He must also have had the all-important noontime lunch break.

jisung :
that’s me ^^
and you’re the mysterious lee minho
changbin hyung told me you needed me for something ??
something very cryptic about hand holding i think
i’ll hear you out since changbin hyung talks about you a lot and i trust him enough to assume you aren’t a murderer

minho :
i’ve known him since i was five and i’m not sure i even trust him that much
here’s the deal
i may have accidentally told my dad and soon-to-be-probably-eventually step mom that i was dating someone even though i’m not and i told them i would bring this boyfriend with me to a movie night this saturday

jisung :
im assuming if i’m the solution here that this was a giant mistake so i won’t interrogate you on why the hell you did that

“What’s he saying?” Changbin asked, peering over the table with a mouth full of ham.

Minho shoved him back down in his seat.

“Nothing. Yet. He does seem nice, though. He’s talkative even though he barely knows me.”

“Jisung is a sincere person. When he’s nice, he means it. When he’s annoyed, he means it. When he’s mad, he means it. When he’s sad, he—“

“Thanks, I get it.”

“I actually think you two would get along. You’re both annoying. Now you can annoy each other instead of me.”

Minho chose responding to Jisung over taking Changbin’s bickering bait.

minho : you’re a saint

jisung:
save that for if i actually say yes
what are the exact specifications here? i’m assuming i have to hold your hand. changbin hyung thought that was a huge selling point for some reason

minho:
hey, people are lining up around the block to get a piece of these hands

jisung:
sounds like you’re going to fight them

minho :
i’m a lover not a fighter :/

jisung:
okay, loverboy, tell me what i have to do

Minho giggled.

Changbin looked up from his second sandwich with ‘I told you so’ written clearly across his face, but Minho only rolled his eyes and went back to his texts.

minho :
movie night at my dad’s house saturday at 8pm. my dad’s girlfriend’s daughter and daughter’s friend will be there. we just have to hang out, look like we’re together, and then i’ll buy you ice cream or something as payment

jisung :
changbin hyung using my love of ice cream against me i see
i don’t see why i can’t do it, minho-ssi. i have no idea why changbin hyung thought of me, but sure. why not

minho :
i’ll repeat, you’re a saint

jisung :
you’re right. i am

_________

Minho didn’t have much time to think about movie night for the last few days of the week. He had a progress report for his thesis due on Friday, requiring him to spend every moment he wasn’t in class in the studio. It was there on Thursday night when Hyunjin reminded him of the logistics of the weekend.

“You’ve never met him, right?” Hyunjin asked as he played with Minho’s sweat-soaked hair.

They both sprawled out on their backs against the cool hardwood of the floor. Even if their minds were willing and wanting to continue practice, their bodies nearing midnight simply gave up.

“Nope. I just know what Changbin’s told me over the years. He’s two years younger than me—your age—he’s talented, he talks a lot. That’s about it.”

Hyunjin rolled over and propped himself up on his elbows. “Do you think your dad and his girlfriend will believe you guys are dating if you meet for the first time on Saturday? Won’t it be awkward? Like that time you introduced Changbin to Felix and they avoided eye contact for three whole hours while we were at the arcade.”

Minho laughed at the memory. To this day neither of his friends have told him why they were so uncomfortable around each other at first. Now Felix is closer to Changbin than he is with Minho.

“This is different. We know we’re supposed to look like we’re dating.”

Hyunjin thought about that for a moment. “Can you actually pull that off, though, if you’ve never hung out with him before? What if your parents realize you’re lying?”

That made Minho’s heart rate accelerate uncomfortably, all but rendering his cool down moot. The last thing he wanted was to break Dahyun’s trust, so he rolled over to his phone and hoped Jisung was free on Friday.

_________

Minho’s stress did not subside when he returned to the studio the following night despite Jisung agreeing to meet up once he finished his progress meeting.

The brief “okay” his professor gave him after watching Minho perform the basic outline of his thesis performance almost caused him to regret the amount of time he put into improving his form and execution over the past couple of weeks. No sooner had the progress report meeting began than it had ended, and Minho was given no further advice than to keep working, and he would have done that anyway.

Minho left the studio with a headache so distracting he drove halfway back to his apartment before remembering he was supposed to be meeting Jisung at the recording space he shared with Changbin and their friend Chan. He turned around recklessly in the middle of the street and focused on reaching the next town over as quickly as possible. It was only at a red light when a dark patch of fabric across Minho’s chest finally caught his attention.

The sweat from both the performance and the nerves of meeting with his professor showed clear on his grey T-shirt. He hadn’t even thought about what he would be wearing or what he would look like to meet Jisung for the first time. Minho thanked the god of romance that he wasn’t headed to a real date in this state of dishevelment.

The shared studio space was only fifteen minutes from his university, which gave little time for his sweat to dry or for Minho to even consider that Seo Changbin would be sitting on a small couch in the corner of the room when he announced his arrival through the doorway.

Minho looked around the room, briefly noting the impressive setup for three independent artists before registering confusion.

“Uh, i didn’t get the time wrong, right? I thought I was meeting Jisung-ssi here?”

“No, you’re on time, and I only know that because Jisung told me you guys were hanging out tonight when my own best friend did not,” Changbin complained with an exaggerated pout.

“Shut up. Why would you even need to know?”

“My closest friends are meeting for the first time! I should be here!”

Minho flung himself on the couch next to Changbin.

“Is Changbinnie jealous?” he teased. “I thought you wanted us to annoy each other?”

“Yeah, and I want to be a spectator for once.” Changbin shoved Minho’s shoulder to get him to move to the farthest reaches of the couch. “You smell like shit.”

“You look like shit.”

“So do you.”

“ So do you ,” Minho mocked with a voice he knew Changbin hated and was promptly shoved once again.

Before he had a chance to shove back, the studio door opened.

“Oh, hey.”

Minho stood up faster than he should have, judging by the look of surprise on Jisung’s face. Nonetheless, Minho introduced himself with a deep bow.

“Yeah, Changbin’s friend. Nice to finally meet you, man.”

Minho turned to the couch sharply. “You let him speak informally to you? That one time Felix didn’t call you hyung you didn’t talk to him for three whole days.”

“Uh-“

“Wait, no,” Changbin interrupted, his hand outstretched to keep Jisung from speaking further. “Wait a second.”

“Minho hyung, you’re finally meeting Jisungie here for the first time. What are your first impressions?”

Minho eyed his fake boyfriend. He was taller than Minho expected—they were almost the same height—and the dimple that appeared in his right cheek when he smiled over at Changbin endeared Minho to him easily.

“Maybe pretending to date him for a night won’t be so bad,” Minho replied, unable to stop himself from supplying an overconfident wink.

Changbin spurted a laugh. “Well, I’m happy you think Jisung here is cute.”

“Who says I’m cute?” Minho heard as a third party moved into the studio. Bang Chan, the third member of the rapping crew, he suspected. Though, that didn’t make sense, did it?

“Oh, shit, I’m late, aren’t I?” The new guy said, bowing immediately when he saw Minho. “Han Jisung, fake boyfriend, at your service.”

Minho looked at Changbin, then at who he now knew was Chan, to see them both fighting off giggles.

“Yah!”

“Don’t ‘yah’ me,” Chan said. “I’m actually your hyung. It is nice to finally meet you, and I am happy to hear you think I’m cute, Minho, but I have plans on Saturday.”

Minho buried his face in his hands. “Shut up. This is embarrassing.”

“I’ve missed something,” Jisung declared.

“Only Minho hyung here getting himself into trouble, as usual.”

“Well, I’m going to leave you guys to it,” Chan said. “I only came in to grab my laptop. Changbinnie, do you want to get dinner with me?”

“No, I—“

“Yes, he does. He absolutely wants to get food with you,” Minho interjected, grabbing Changbin’s shoulders and pushing him toward the door. “Bye, binnie. See you never.”

“Literally see you tomorrow. And text me tonight,” he half-yelled behind him as Minho closed the door to the studio.

Minho shook his head, ridding his mind of embarrassment and annoyance. He looked over at Jisung with what he hoped was fresh eyes. This was the guy, not Chan.

He was closer to the height Minho had imagined, though he had no basis for that expectation at all. His cheeks were round and his hair, a dark brown, was longer and thicker than his own. Jisung’s doe eyes caused him to look slightly startled, but mostly kind.

“Hi,” Minho finally let out, remembering he had to do this introduction over again. “I’m Minho. I mean, you know that, but yeah. Nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too. Thanks for coming all the way here right after practice.”

Minho was reminded of his appearance and felt embarrassment creep back up his back. He scratched at his neck, trying to keep it at bay. “No problem. Do you want to just talk here or we could get coffee or something?”

“There’s a bar on the next block over?” At Minho’s surprised expression, Jisung added, “Today sucked.”

That was reason enough for Minho. He followed Jisung to the small neighborhood bar a quick walk from the studio and ordered the glass of water he should have had directly after his meeting. He knew he wouldn’t be worth anything at tomorrow’s practice if he drank tonight.

“So,” Jisung began once they grabbed a booth a corner away from the locals crowding the pool tables and dart boards. “It’s just for one night, right? I think us just meeting like we are tonight is probably enough to make sure we don’t make complete fools of ourselves.”

Minho nodded. “I agree. I don’t think we need to quiz each other on family facts or whatever like in the movies.”

“Quick,” Jisung urged. “What’s my favorite color and how long have I been making music?”

“Green and ever since you could,” Minho replied.  

He took a smug sip of his water while Jisung stared at him in disbelief.

“How did you—“

“Your jacket and your shoes are green and whenever people ask me how long I’ve been dancing I always say ever since I had the ability to.”

“Ahhh, I see. I don’t think I’m that perceptive. If your parents throw me a curveball question, I might not be able to answer so smoothly.”

Minho waved away Jisung’s worries. “You’ll be fine. I think they’ll be interested in you, they already know everything about me.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” Jisung took a long sip of his beer.

“Maybe just deciding on how we met and started dating will be enough.”

“How did we meet if we don’t go to the same school?”

“Easy. Changbin. I’ll text him and make sure he knows in case my dad ever asks. We all hung out one night last month at…this bar, and we hit it off.”

“We exchanged numbers, hung out without Changbin the next week, and the rest is history.”

Minho smiled. This was cake. He didn’t know why he let Hyunjin make him so nervous. Everything was going to be fine.

He held his glass of water out in front of him, cheers’d to their fabricated fancy, and though he’d never admit it, thanked the heavens for Seo Changbin’s solution to his massive fuckup.

_______

Minho did remember to dress nicer after running back to his apartment to shower and change before movie night. He pulled on his favorite ripped jeans and a fitted t-shirt. Casual, but put together. He knew his choice was a success when Seungmin and Jeongin walked through his bedroom door whistling.

“Why did I invite you two over again?”

His friends plopped down on his bed.

“Because you love us,” Jeongin answered at the same time Seungmin declared “Because you’re nervous for your first date.”

“I do—“ Minho had dreaded signing up to be a mentor to younger students last year, was only interested in padding his resume, but Jeongin and Seungmin became actual friends of his quickly and naturally. He did love them. “And it’s not a real date.”

“Why are you putting on your date-cologne, then?”

Minho paused with his favorite fragrance in his hand, arm held a foot out from his body, ready to spray.

“I haven’t been on a single date since I met you, you have no way of knowing if this is my ‘date-cologne,’” Minho complained.

Nonetheless, he put the bottle back on his dresser and picked up a less enticing scent. His friends giggled.

Maybe he understood what Changbin meant about him wanting his friends to annoy each other instead of him. Seungmin and Jeongin managed to do both just fine.

“Besides, this isn’t supposed to look like a first date. It has to look like we’ve been dating for like a month now.”

“I hope he’s a good kisser,” Seungmin stated, and Minho blinked.

He hadn’t once thought about kissing. They weren’t going to kiss. They had no reason to kiss. Right?

He should not have invited his friends over.

_________

Once Jeongin finished finicking with his hair, Minho made the drive to Jisung’s apartment. It wasn’t much farther than Minho’s trip to the recording studio the previous day.

As soon as Minho sent the text that he was in the parking lot, Jisung was approaching his car door in black skinny jeans and an oversized knit shirt tucked into where his belt buckle rested against his stomach. His hair was parted rather than flat against his forehead like the night before, and when he opened the door, Minho could register only the deep notes of his cologne.

“Hey,” Jisung greeted with a smile. He didn’t look nearly as nervous as Minho felt. Changbin really had suggested the perfect fake boyfriend. Nothing seemed to rattle Han Jisung.

“Hi.” Minho smiled back appropriately. “I should thank you now since it’d be suspicious if I did it once we got there. You’re really nice to do this, and I really appreciate you bailing me out even though we don’t even know each other.”

Jisung placed his hand briefly on Minho’s thigh. “It’s no problem, really. We’ve been friends in the making for two years now, Changbin hyung was just terrified to introduce us.”

Minho put his car in reverse and pulled out of the parking lot.

“Was he?” Minho always just assumed Changbin knew he wouldn’t have anything in common with his producer friends, but that didn’t really make sense, now that he thought about it. He had plenty in common with Changbin himself despite them being in different fields. Jeongin and Seungmin, too.

“He once said ‘you two together would be the death of me.’” Jisung sputtered out a laugh. “So I don’t know why he suggested I be the one to play the boyfriend role tonight.”

“He has a death wish,” was Minho’s response, which elicited yet another sputter. Minho smiled in his ability to make Jisung laugh.

The quick drive back across town was comfortable, albeit almost heated once Minho graciously handed Jisung the aux cord. Minho demanded to hear music Jisung himself had produced while Jisung refused, which caused Minho to refuse the refusal and before Minho realized it, they were pulling up in front of his dad’s house, not a single song having played on the radio on the way there.

They both quieted when Minho put the car in park. The sound of his unsteady exhale was embarrassingly loud.

Jisung’s hand patted Minho’s thigh once more, but this time he turned his palm up, wiggling his fingers.

Minho obliged. He laced his fingers with his fake boyfriend for the night.

Jisung squeezed, and Minho squeezed, and though they had to let go to get out of the car, Jisung’s hand was in his once again as they walked up to the porch and made their way into Minho’s childhood home.

_________

As Minho sat on the couch in between Jisung and Jaeyoon, he realized he hadn’t fully realized just how awkward this could be.

“Why is he still here?” Minho had asked his father as he helped to dump popcorn into large bowls. The guy hadn’t stopped staring at him from the moment they walked through the door. There was no doubt in Minho’s mind that Dahyun or Hyejin or both had told him Minho was single and interested. Whether they updated him once Minho confessed to having a boyfriend he certainly-didn’t-actually have was yet to be seen.

“He’d already been invited,” Mr. Lee whispered back.

“You could have lied and said we canceled, told him I broke my leg or something.”

Mr. Lee rolled his eyes and Minho was reminded just how alike they could be sometimes. “Why would we lie?”

Minho disguised “Yeah, no liars in this family, am I right?” as a joke before taking two bowls of popcorn and bolting from the kitchen.

Returning to the living room to see Jaeyoon and Jisung sitting as far away from each other as physically possible on the same couch, however, made Minho want to flee back to his father and spill his guts.

“Do you like scary movies, Jisung?” Dahyun was asking as Minho begrudgingly sat down as close to Jisung as he could without making him feel uncomfortable.

“Don’t grill him, mom,” Hyejin complained from the floor.

“I asked him one question!”

“It’s no problem, I love questions, though—” Jisung chuckled, and Minho thought he sounded off, but he couldn’t be sure. “—I don’t love horror. I can definitely handle it.”

“Narrator voice,” Minho whispered in Jisung’s ear just ten minutes later. “You couldn’t handle it.”

Jisung held the bowl of popcorn they were all meant to be sharing in front of his face, with only half of his eyes peeking over at the tv. Minho, worried Jisung would make this entire night more like a drama than it already was by jumping and throwing the popcorn everywhere, gently pried the bowl from his fingers and passed it to Jaeyoon, who smiled far too sweetly at him.

When he turned back to the tv, he saw Dahyun and his dad looking over at him with ‘comfort him!!!!!!’ written across both of their embarrassing faces.

Minho quickly remembered that Jisung wasn’t the hilariously frightened sophomore sitting next to him but his supposed boyfriend .

“Um,” he whispered close to Jisung’s ear. “I think I’m supposed to be protecting you right now or something.”

Jisung leaned in close, too. “Have you never dated anyone before? Of course you’re suppposed to be protecting me right now. This is the worst date I’ve ever been on.”

Minho was seventy percent sure that Jisung was joking, but the thirty percent doubt gave him all the reason to place his arm around Jisung’s shoulders and pull him close so Jisung could hide his face in his shirt.

And there he stayed for the next hour and a half.

When Hyejin got up to turn the lights on, Jisung pulled away from Minho’s chest.

He stretched out his muscles. “You didn’t have to squeeze me that tightly, you scaredy cat.”

“Me?” Minho replied indignantly. “You were the scared one, not me.”

“I definitely was scared, but so were you. I can’t feel my back, I’ve been squeezed to numbness.”

Minho punched Jisung below his shoulder blade. “Did you feel that?”

“Ow, yes, you jerk.”

“Okay, I’ve decided both Minho and Jisung would die last in our horror movie.” Dahyun proclaimed as she collected the popcorn bowls. “Their bickering and romantic chemistry would entertain for the entire movie, and we’d be elated that they survived, only for them to be simultaneously beheaded directly in the middle of an argument. The murderer’s last kill.”

“Jesus Christ, Mom,” Hyejin whined.

“What my beautiful, absolutely-not-an-axe-murderer love of my life is trying to say, Jisung, is that as long as you didn’t die first, we approve of you dating Minho,” Mr. Lee said, and then added, “That, and you’re also very cute together. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Minho look so relaxed around a date before.”

Because this isn’t real , Minho thought.

“Yeah? What’s he usually like?”

“Okay, this isn’t embarrass Minho time, let’s not go there,” Minho quickly tried to interject, but his father didn’t seem to even consider stopping. Hyejin and Jaeyoon appeared to perk up in waiting, too.

“When he brought Shinwon to a family cookout, they barely spoke to each other. I thought he was going to throw up.”

“I was literally sick that day!”

“But you weren’t love sick, were you son?”

Jisung threw his head back against the couch as he laughed.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

The sound of Jisung’s giggles drowned out the ‘yes i do’ on the tip of Minho’s tongue.

_________

Minho treated Jisung to ice cream when they left, just as he had promised. While they waited for their scoops to find their way to cones, Minho asked Jisung if he was going to have traumatizing nightmares when he tried to sleep that night; Jisung assured him he would not.

In between bites and licks of his favorite flavor of strawberry banana--a much needed contrast to the amount of salt he consumed during the movie--Minho told Jisung of his childhood fear of worms and his adulthood fear of heights and his sometimes-fear of natural disasters and his always-fear of car accidents.

Jisung triple-checked that every intersection was clear while Minho drove him back home, and the seriousness with which he told him to “drive safely” once he got out of the car made Minho grateful not only that Jisung agreed to be his fake date, but also that he could now call Jisung his friend.

_________

“I heard it went well,” Changbin noted when for the second week in a row they were apparently talking rather than eating during their noontime break.

Minho did allow himself to swallow two spoonfuls of rice before answering. “Yeah? And who told you that?”

“Jisungie, duh. He tells me everything.”

“Did he tell you that you have chicken crumbs all over your face?”

Changbin scoffed, wiped his mouth, and continued talking. “What he did say was that you two got along well, as I predicted.”

“We did.”

“So I was thinking—“

“Don’t hurt yourself too much there.”

Changbin dropped his spoon in his bowl. “Minho hyung, what is with you today? I can handle your usual teasing when we’re both laughing, but you’ve only been a jerk since the first word I spoke to you today.

“Fuck, sorry.” Minho buried his face in his hands. “I just feel like I’m banging my head against a wall with my stupid thesis. Practice didn’t go very well yesterday.”

Changbin’s voice softened. “You have time, you know that right? You’re months away from graduation. It’s okay to take a break. Give yourself a break, hyung.”

“I’d feel even worse if I stopped. I’d feel even more hopeless. I don’t know, I’ll figure something else out, and I shouldn’t take my shitty mood out on you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’d rather you take it out on me than yourself. Just let me know how I can help, yeah?”

Minho nodded. “Thanks, Changbinnie.” He lifted his voice an octave higher while tickling under Changbin’s chin. “Sweetest, sweet Changbin. My best friend and soulmate.”

“I regret this conversation.”

“No you don’t.”

_________

It took two and a half weeks of Minho making no progress for him to swallow his pride and his propensity for perseverance and call Changbin. He reached out to his professor first, conveyed that he didn’t know what to fix, and he couldn’t decide if he should move on to the next section of the choreography or if he should change the structure completely. He still had time to start over if needed to, but the problem was he didn’t know what he needed. Or wanted. It wasn’t just his professor’s short responses—a simple “do what feels right for you” was the response he got after asking for help—that caused Minho to feel so incredibly lost while working on this project.

With every move and every step he felt the weight of his future hanging on his back. It couldn’t stop him from moving, nothing could, but his breathing was heavy, and he couldn’t clear his head no matter how hard he worked to fight off his anxiety with endorphins.

Dancing was always what relieved his stress before he decided to major in it. Now that it was his school, his career, his lifeline, and his future, Minho wasn’t sure how to calm himself down.

So he called Changbin from the hardwood floor. It wasn’t exactly the same without Changbin’s carpet.

“I have an idea. Come to the recording studio.”

For an entire two years Changbin kept his music away from Minho, yet he found himself driving the now-familiar route west for the fourth time in the past month. Maybe they were both in a crisis.

“Oh, hi,” Minho greeted when he stepped through the doorway to see Jisung sat at the mixing table rather than Changbin.

Despite Minho’s confusion as to why this place always produced the person he was least expecting to see, Jisung looked unsurprised at his arrival.

They hadn’t talked much since movie night. Another thank you from Minho, assurance from Jisung that it really was no problem, and that had been it.

Seeing Jisung now, with expensive headphones wrapped around his neck, beanie almost slipping off the back of his head, eyes tired, Minho wondered if they weren’t all three in a crisis.

“Changbin hyung said you were coming by and then just up and left. Are you here to see me? He didn’t really clarify.”

“Uh, yes,” Minho lied easily. “Changbin said you’d be here, figured I’d drop by.”

Jisung took off his headphones and laid them on the desktop before turning back to Minho. “What’s up?”

“Wanna get a beer?”

Jisung’s eyebrow shot up. “Not water this time?”

“Today sucked,” Minho replied.

“It did, didn’t it? Let’s go.”

__________

The bar seemed exactly as it did the last time they came. All that changed was Minho’s familiarity with the crooked slant of Jisung’s front tooth as he tilted his head back to take a swig of his drink and the way his eyes widened when he was outraged.

And he was in fact outraged when he caught Minho cheating in their drinking game for the third time in a row.

“Hyung!” Jisung yelled with his hands trapping Minho’s against the sticky tabletop. “You’re absolutely no fun.”

Minho flipped his palms over quickly and began to pinch at Jisung’s wrists. He giggled when Jisung slapped him in return.

“Fine,” he acquiesced. “Let’s play a game I can’t cheat at.”

Jisung took a long sip of his beer. “Like what?”

“A classic. Truth or dare. Refuse to complete your turn and you have to chug.”

“Fucking deal,” Jisung agreed, and the focused look in his eyes had Minho, for just a moment, reconsidering this decision. “I’ll go first. Truth.”

“Is there a third wheel in 3racha?” Minho asked out of genuine curiosity. He’d always had Changbin as his number one. Even when he was with Woojin as a kid, there was an understanding: he was the big brother to them both. Minho never had to pick anyone over Changbin; it never even came close.

Jisung seemed to think about his answer seriously. “I don’t think so. We all have different strengths and weaknesses and we’re all different ages, so I don’t think there’s like rivalry or anything like that. Channie hyung likes to take charge and Changbinnie hyung and I let him, so sometimes we’re second and third wheels to the Bang Chan show, but other than that, I really don’t think so.”

Minho nodded. “It’s cool that you all get along so well.”

“Well, Changbin hyung is your best friend and we get along, so now all you have to do is get in with Chan hyung and you’re an honorary member,” Jisung said, and no sooner did the words leave his mouth did he appear to have an idea. “Minho hyung. Truth or dare?”

“Oh, god. Dare, I guess.” He was far less nervous of what Jisung would make him do than what he’d make him say.

“I dare you to text Chan hyung and flirt with him.”

He almost spit out his beer all over the table.

Turned out Minho should have been afraid of both.

“Why, why, why?”

“You were checking him out that day, right? He’s single, you’re single. You’re both hot. Why not?”

Minho definitely did not blush at that indirect compliment. “Are you forgetting the whole reason you had to come to movie night was because I don’t want a boyfriend ?”

Jisung shrugged his shoulders. “Dare still stands.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t, and here’s his number.”

Minho begrudgingly typed the digits into his phone, and stared blankly at his open message for so long Jisung eventually leaned over to stare with him.

He turned, catching Minho’s eye, and asked, “Lee Minho you do know now how to flirt, right? First you didn’t know how to protect me during the scary movie, now this? Thank god you’re pretty.”

That gave Minho an idea. He typed ‘you’re pretty’ into the chat and quickly turned his phone over on the table. Jisung rolled his eyes but seemed satisfied that he’d fulfilled his turn.

Minho got away with half-assing three more dares—doing a ‘sexy’ solo dance in the middle of the bar (it was half sexy, at most), letting Jisung tweet whatever he wanted from his account (he pulled up his abandoned twitter from three years ago), and buying everyone in the bar a round (which he yelled, loudly, before quickly announcing that he was just kidding)—before Jisung finally put him on a truth-only restriction.

“Have you ever been in love?” he asked when both of their drinks were long gone.

“No,” Minho answered honestly. “Just crushes that didn’t go much farther than crushes. You?”

“I didn’t pick truth.”

“Just answer, Jisungie.”

Jisung shook his head, and Minho thought he was refusing to answer before he spoke. “Same for me. I have had a few people like me, seriously like me, but I think they realize how awkward I am and pull back.”

That didn’t make sense to Minho, who only felt at ease around Jisung, even from the first time they hung out here at this same corner table, even when he was holding his hand as they both pretended to be something they weren’t.

Minho dared Jisung to sing at the top of his lungs beside the jukebox, and even then, he didn’t feel awkward. Instead, he joined him, put his arm around his shoulder and sang so loudly he felt for the first time in a month, light .

________

changbin:
have fun?

minho:
i hate you
but thank you
i guess

________

Minho’s work on his thesis didn’t exactly improve, but when Jisung texted him and “dared” him to actually sit down with his professor and demand proper feedback, he did, and with the confirmation that the structure of the choreography was fine, he could finally focus on execution. Technically, that brought on even more of a headache, but the frustration when trying to get every micromovement of his body correct was one Minho was familiar with, one he thrived on. He could handle this.

So his Mondays turned back into foodfests, Fridays no longer carried the weight of the progress meeting memory, and Sundays Minho actually started allowing himself to rest.

Saturday’s, he should have known, were still cursed.

“We’re headed up to the resort to celebrate Dahyun’s birthday on Saturday, Minho, don’t forget,” Mr. Lee called to remind him one evening. Minho had in fact forgotten that his father told him of Dahyun’s birthday tradition of visiting her favorite vacation spot and that they would be celebrating with her this year. “And she has specifically requested that you bring Jisung along,” he added.

It was only then that Minho remembered part of Woojin’s plan was to wait a week and break it off with his fake boyfriend. It’d been several weeks without him mentioning a word about Jisung, but Minho definitely never implied they broke up.

“Uh, he’s probably busy, dad. This is kind of last minute.” Minho twirled his favorite pen in between his fingers nervously waiting for his dad to respond.

“Well, ask him if he can make room in his schedule. I think she’s worried about you being bored and wanted to make sure you’d have fun.”

“This is about her having fun, though. Sheesh, dad, couldn’t you have dated someone a little more selfish?” Minho joked with a smile he hoped his dad could hear.

“I know, she sucks, doesn’t she? Might dump her on her birthday so I can find a real hag instead.”

“Good riddance.”

“Ask Jisung.”

“I’ll ask, I’ll ask.”

_________

minho:
how much do you hate me on a scale of chan to changbin

jisung :
i cannot even begin to unpack what you mean by that

minho:
do you have plans this saturday and are you prepared to hate me and never talk to me again

jisung :
i just have the usual recording schedule, why?

minho:
dahyun may or may not have invited you to celebrate her birthday at a resort from saturday to sunday this weekend

jisung :
:0 that was really nice of her

minho:
i know right
but uh, just so we’re clear, you’re invited as my boyfriend becausemaybeiforgotiwassupposedtotellthemwebrokeup

jisung: you don’t deserve dahyun

minho:
i would never argue that fact and im genuinely sorry for being such a fuck up. i got distracted when i was stuck with my thesis then you helped me get unstuck so then i was distracted by the progress i was making and it just slipped my mind

jisung:
hey, it’s no problem, really, minho hyung. i hate you at about a han jisung level right now

minho:
and that would be how much?

jisung:
entertainedly irritated, five steps below any actual hatred

minho:
wow. a saint you remain

jisung:
you’re welcome

_________

“Let’s go, let’s go,” Mr. Lee called from the porch on Saturday morning. Minho dragged his feet and his bag to the door. They were leaving at eight to get to the resort by what Dahyun swore was the best breakfast she’s ever had, and Minho had to wake up early enough to pick up Jisung so they could all ride together with Hyejin in Dahyun’s suv.

“You’re not a morning person, I gather?” Jisung had said when he climbed into Minho’s car and was greeted not by Minho’s usual toothy smile but an immediate groan.

“No, keep that in your fake-boyfriend memory bank for later. I hate mornings, I hate bitter coffee, I hate being ignored, I hate heated vegetables that are only meant to be eaten cold. Fuck you, Subway, no I don’t want my sandwich toasted.”

“Oh-Kay...” Jisung replied with a click of his seat belt.

Minho’s mood didn’t improve much as his dad, with his adult sleeping schedule, tried to excite him by explaining the extravagance of the resort. That only made Minho think of relaxing his body in the warm hot tubs in turn making him want to fall asleep even more.

Before Minho could get his house key in the lock, he heard a soft “here,” beside him.

Jisung placed a warm to-go mug in his hand, one Minho recognized as the party favor from his senior dance in high school. The smell of his favorite French vanilla coffee blanketed them both.

“I added plenty of sugar, I promise.”

Minho took a sip to be sure, ignoring the honking from the car waiting for them on the street.

He ruffled Jisung’s hair as a tired thank you, and tried his best to ignore the look of adoration on his dad’s face as he pretended to look away from their interaction at the door.

If the warmth of the coffee in Minho’s palms wasn’t enough to lull him to sleep, Jisung handing him one of his headphones left him with no other choice than to rest his head on Jisung’s shoulder and succumb to the makeshift bed that was the backmost seat of the car.

He recognized Jisung’s voice immediately, though the melody was lighter and much slower than Minho ever would have assumed Jisung’s music to be. He smiled against Jisung’s shirt in the realization that Jisung was finally letting him hear one of his songs, and he mumbled a sleepy “thank you” before his eyes slipped shut.

_________

Breakfast was, to Dahyun’s credit, incredible. Minho ate away the grogginess from his nap while listening to Hyejin weave story after story of their family’s annual trip to the resort.

Minho understood the appeal. They were greeted at their car by staff who carried the luggage, served them drinks in the lobby while Dahyun checked in, and gave them a quick tour of the facilities for Minho, Jisung, and Mr. Lee’s sake.

There were inside and outdoor pools, all with views of the green hills surrounding the lot, and all adorned with stones and foliage to isolate each pool from the next. Minho fought every urge in his body to abandon the food and strip down to his boxers then and there. He purposefully overworked himself in the studio the night before with the knowledge that the warm water of the heated pools would soothe his muscles. Now with a pleasant throbbing in his neck from the car nap, his anticipation grew higher.

Sensing his antsiness, Jisung grabbed his hand and dragged him to the breakfast table.

“How did you two meet?” Mr. Lee asked while they waited for the second course. “I never even asked that on movie night.”

Minho tried to think back to that first night in the bar when they’d decided on the backstory. That felt so long ago now; as Jisung and Minho became actual friends, the false context for which they finally met slipped away from him.

“I’m friends with Changbin hyung,” Jisung supplied when Minho took a beat too long to answer. “We make music together, and since Minho hyung is his best friend, we all hung out together one night.”

Ah, that was right. Minho remembered now. “We hit it off,” he added, and Jisung smiled at him in what Minho assumed was relief that he wasn’t totally clamming up.

“And how did you know you liked each other?” Dahyun asked.

“Mom, leave them alone,” Hyejin pleaded.

Minho didn’t have much in common with his probably-eventual step sister, but she was always willing to butt into the bickering and banter as a voice of reason whenever they were all together. In this family, that was probably necessary.

In this case, however, Minho didn’t mind. Dahyun didn’t sound like she was teasing them; she sounded invested in Minho’s happiness. He couldn’t begrudge her for that.

“I don’t think it was one life-altering moment,” Minho replied without a map of where this conversation would take them. His eyes focused on his plate, as if the remnants of sweet potatoes would guide him home. “Jisung just seemed to understand me immediately. It was easy with him, never awkward. It would have been too hard not to like him.”

Minho shrugged and looked up. Dahyun smiled with so much affection he wanted to look away while Hyejin appeared mildly nauseated. Jisung, Minho could see out of the corner of his eye, stared at a compass made of asparagus spears on his own plate.

“And the cheese is here!” A waiter announced before placing two large platters on their table.

The conversation moved to the pros and cons of cheese courses, Jisung’s answer to Dahyun’s question lost without Minho knowing if it was ever found in the first place.

___________

“Wait.” Minho stopped in the middle of the hallway when his dad handed Hyejin a room key after handing Minho and Jisung one as well. “Are we not all staying in a kids room?”

“Hyejin is the only minor here, Minho, you’re almost twenty-two years old,” Mr. Lee noted.

“You know what I mean—I just assumed it’d be a birthday banging room and a try-not-to-think-about-the-other-room room.”

Hyejin and Dahyun both scrunched up their noses in exactly the same way.

“I would have slept on the couch without a problem,” Minho added when still no one seemed to notice the problem here.

“It’s fine, Minho,” Dahyun said. “Hyejin likes her privacy, I’m sure you do, too.” The implication was clear in her voice, and Minho wasted no time turning on his heel and heading inside of their room.

“You started it,” he heard her say before the door closed.

_________

Minho did start it. He started this whole problem. He opened his mouth and made up a lie. He forgot to fake-break-up. He dragged Jisung to a family event. He got them into a hotel room with one bed. He’s the one who stared at his fake boyfriend applying sunscreen shirtless in front of a window overlooking the mountains.

He started it, and he knew he’d have to end it after tonight.

But for now, he might as well enjoy the view.

__________

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Jesus, language,” Minho scolded, though his brain was offering a similar stream of expletives as he submerged his body into the hot spring.

“Please, as if your dad and Dahyun didn’t purposefully give us the most secluded pool. Dahyun winked so hard I thought a bee flew into her eye.”

Minho leaned back and took a deep breath, succumbing quickly to the calm of the water and the wind. “Yeah, sorry about that. For how ridiculous my family can be, I really did not see any of that coming.”

“You’ve got to stop apologizing to me so much. I’ve agreed to all of this of my own free will. It’s fine, Minho, I promise.”

“It doesn’t seem like you’re two years younger than me, you know that? You’re more serious about your music than my professor is about his students, you take on other people’s problems, you’re never nervous. Or at least you’re really good at hiding it.”

“Every relationship needs balance,” Jisung replied. “Not to mention you’re not always just jokes and the random crap that comes out of your mouth. I saw you when you were having trouble with your thesis. When you’re passionate about something, you’re just as focused as I am. Maybe even more. And don’t act like you don’t take on other people’s problems, too. The only reason we met is because you didn’t want to disappoint Mr. Lee and Dahyun.”

Minho didn’t think he was that easy to read. “Wow. I really need to work on my poker face.”

“It’s your fault for asking out a fake boyfriend who understands you as well as I do.”

Minho had no idea how to respond to hearing his own words from breakfast out of Jisung’s mouth. He followed the only instinct that made sense: he splashed Jisung directly in the face.

“Don’t drown me!” Jisung flung palm fulls of water furiously back.

“Don’t tease me!”

“I wasn’t teasing you!”

That probably wasn’t true, but Minho ceased his tirade regardless.

Jisung’s hair drooped heavily onto in front of his eyes, and Minho watched as he flicked his bangs back from his forehead.

“See if you can guess what I’m saying underwater,” Minho blurted, and plunged himself below the surface without waiting to hear a reply.

He opened his eyes to see that Jisung did not hesitate to join him.

He mouthed I’m happy we met .

Jisung guessed he said “I hate tennis,” and Minho told him he was right.

__________

After dinner, where they all sang Dahyun happy birthday and Minho shyly passed her a poorly wrapped box with new Bluetooth headphones for her to use on her nightly runs (which he bought on Jisung’s recommendation), Minho happily changed into his pajamas.

The day’s activities caused him to forget the reality he was met with when he emerged from the bathroom: the single bed.

Luckily, there was a couch against the far wall that looked more comfortable than the piece of shit futon he bought second-hand for his apartment. He grabbed the pillow next to where Jisung was laying, also changed and sleepy, and pulled the extra blanket folded on top of the comforter off the bed.

“What are you doing?” Jisung asked.

“Making my bed. What are you doing?”

“Laying in your bed.”

“It’s your bed.”

“It’s our bed. Sleep here,” Jisung patted the blanket beside him. “I don’t mind.”

“It’s cool. I don’t mind either.”

Minho wasn’t expecting this to be an argument, though he shouldn’t have been surprised when half of his conversations with Jisung resulted in bickering of some sort.

“The bed is big enough for both of us, it’s a king. Changbinnie hyung and Channie hyung could fit in here with us.”

Minho cringed. “I don’t need that mental image in my head.”

“What? You don’t want to be curled next to your cute crush, Bang Chan?”

“Okay, now I’m going to sleep in the bed just so I can kick you all night for saying that.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jisung lamented, but he looked delighted when Minho really did replace the bedding and turn out the light.

“Just so we’re clear,” Minho whispered into the darkness once he realized he wasn’t going to be able to sleep until he said it aloud. “I don’t actually like Chan hyung.”

Jisung rolled over to face him, though it was too dark to make out anything other than his silhouette. “I know. You’re busy, I know. I’ll stop teasing. Goodnight, hyung. Sleep well.”

Minho wasn’t sure if that was the reason anymore, but he didn’t correct him.

“Goodnight, Jisungie.”

____________

After Dahyun’s birthday, Minho reclaimed his Saturdays, but only barely. For three weeks Minho dodged his dad and Dahyun’s invitations for him and Jisung to join them for family weekend fun, and for three weeks he dodged opportunities to tell his family they broke up (a month, Minho and Jisung decided on their way back from the resort, of neither his dad nor Dahyun seeing his boyfriend or hearing about him would be enough to convince them that they really did have a falling out).

Truly breaking the Saturday curse was possible by the one person Minho should have seen coming, considering all the years he’d saved Minho before: Seo Woojin. He gave Minho a reason to see Jisung on a Saturday without a crisis or a facade.

He was throwing a party.

“I got a new job,” Woojin told him over a shoddy facetime connection, but his smile shined brightly nonetheless. “And we’re celebrating.”

Woojin told Minho and Changbin to invite all of their friends, and against all odds, everyone was free on a weekend so close to midterms.

Changbin invited Jisung and Chan but either out of habit or out of desperation to see Jisung as soon as possible, Minho wanted to be the one to ask if they needed a ride.

minho:
i can pick both of you up if you want or if you need me to. whatever lol

jisung:
youve never once used ‘lol’ who are you and what have you done with minho hyung

While Minho had no excuse to see Jisung in person since the resort, he did find daily excuses to text him. From his lunch order to Changbin’s whining to his progress on his thesis, Minho kept Jisung updated on his life and Jisung did the same in return, albeit less frequently. Minho sometimes wondered if he was annoying Jisung with his constant correspondence, but he never didn’t respond, so Minho tried not to overthink it.

minho:
im just excited !!!!

jisung:
you’ve never once used that many exclamations im SCARED

minho:
just answer the question should i come and pick you guys up?

chan:
wait, this is your number, lee minho?
so you’re the one who texted me that one day saying i was pretty?

jisung:
SDKJAFHSDFJASDKJFLHSAKLDJFH

minho:
IT WAS A DARE

chan:
wow, now i’m offended

minho:
i said it was a dare not that it wasn’t true
anyway, never mind LOL please erase every interaction we’ve ever had from your brain goodbye

chan:
skafjshdf bye bye~~~~

Minho allowed a full-body cringe to wash over him before he navigated to his chat with Jisung.

minho:
I HATE YOU

jisung:
i know you don’t but for once, i deserve that. how embarrassing

minho:
okay well now there’s no way in hell i’m going to trap myself in a car with bang ‘you’re the one who texted me that day saying i was pretty’ chan so good luck finding a ride

jisung:
i think we’re all going to be at the studio working up until we need to leave for the party, so we can ride in changbin hyung’s car anyway

minho:
for the record do you trust his driving as much as you trust mine :/

jisung:
yes :/

minho:
this relationship is officially OVER

jisung:
i mean...

minho:
wow pour salt in my single as fuck wound why don’t you

jisung:
are you forgetting that your single status is completely self-inflicted

minho:
are you forgetting that i am, by trade, an idiot

jisung:
never a day in my life

minho:
://///////////////

jisung:
:-))))))))))))))

____________

Minho wanted to travel back to five hours ago and rip his favorite bottle of cologne out of his hand, the jeans that made his ass look phenomenal off of his legs, and the tasteful amount of mascara he meticulously applied off of his lashes. What was the point of looking as good as he did tonight if Han Jisung was acting like they barely knew each other?

It was a good thing, technically, that bringing together Minho, Changbin, and Woojin’s friends didn’t result in total disaster. With the aid of alcohol, music that somehow all of them knew the choreography to, and a chaotic game of bunny bunny, everyone settled comfortably around Woojin’s small apartment to celebrate.

The only problem was Minho sitting in a chair by himself while Jisung talked animatedly to Seungmin and Hyunjin. They’re the same age, they’re going to be comfortable around each other , Minho tried consoling himself.

It all came down to just how little he was used to sharing Jisung with anyone else, Minho decided while he watched the younger members of the group interact.

Even though Jisung was Changbin’s friend, never once had the three of them hung out together. He always had Jisung’s full attention whether they were hanging out with his family or just texting, and not that Minho didn’t like seeing Jisung’s face light up as he played around with the others, but seeing Jisung take so easily to strangers made Minho almost reconsider the significance of every private moment they’d shared together.

He couldn’t know when Jisung flung himself onto Felix when he laughed or when he jumped up to get Changbin another drink that anything they shared together was reserved just for them.

Which made no sense, since every moment had been fake, anyway.

Minho knew that. But he didn’t want to believe that.

And it was both of those facts that made him want to get up and leave more than anything else.

But he didn’t have time to consider how selfish he was willing to be to Woojin when the man himself plopped down on the arm of his chair.

“You alright?” Woojin asked.

Minho decided right then and there to push his own feelings aside. He smiled sincerely at his decade-long friend. “How can I not be alright when my favorite big brother is going to be a famous singer?”

Woojin rolled his eyes. “I’m going to be a backup singer, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Hey,” Minho began before cornering himself in the chair so he was facing Woojin. “Don’t discredit yourself. You’re actually going to be in the business, not interning, not grabbing somebody’s coffee. You’re going to be on stage! This is how you work your way up. You’ll be the one needing backup singers this time next year, believe me on that one, hyung.”

Woojin ruffled Minho’s hair. “When did you get so smart?”

“For how many years did you think I was dumb, hyung?”

“I plead the fifth,” Woojin said quickly and chugged the rest of his beer. “That’s the guy who helped you out with movie night, right?”

Jisung was playing some game with Seungmin, Jeongin, Felix, and hyunjin that involved animal sounds and lots of clapping.

“The one in the green shirt? Yeah.”

“Not to overstep—“

“When has that ever stopped you before?”

“—but is he by any chance the reason you’re sitting over here and not in the middle of the chaos like you usually are?”

“I’m not going to say you’re wrong, but I really don’t think I want to talk about it,” Minho replied just as Jisung appeared to lose the game they were playing.

“Your punishment,” Jeongin declared with glee for the entire room to hear, “is aegyo.”

A look of annoyance passed on Jisung’s face before he took one quick breath and let out a string of squeaking noises accompanied by hearts held up all around and over his face.

The group went quiet with the shock of the attack.

“Yah!” Jisung yelled at his new friends when they showed no reaction at all to his efforts despite being the ones to assign him the forfeit in the first place.

Minho, without hesitation, busted out laughing, which sent Hyunjin into giggles, which caused Seungmin and Jeongin to finally register Jisung’s embarrassment, giving them reason enough to laugh, too.

Jisung mouthed a ‘thank you’ at Minho and when Minho turned to Woojin to ask if he could maybe give him a second, Woojin was already gone.

So he motioned for Jisung to come over to the chair he was unwilling to abandon.

“Hi,” Jisung greeted.

“Hi. Having fun?”

“I am. Why aren’t you? Sitting over here like a bump on a log.”

“Better with two bumps,” Minho said before spinning Jisung around and pulling him down onto his lap. Jisung made a surprised ‘oomph’ sound before accepting his fate and leaning back into Minho’s chest.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Jisung noted while he watched Seungmin flick Felix on the forehead.

“Let’s have fun, then. Let’s play a game.”

Jisung wiggled his way out of Minho’s grip and turned enough so Minho could see his face when he talked. Minho secured his arm around Jisung’s waist so he wouldn’t fall.

“Just the two of us?”

“Mmhmm. A classic. Truth or dare.”

“You haven’t looked at Chan hyung even once since we’ve been here, are you sure you want to go down this rabbit hole again?”

“Good point,” Minho admitted. “Let’s do truths only.”

“Isn’t that like twenty questions basically?”

“It doesn’t matter what we call it, Jisung, I just want to ask you something.”

Jisung eyes widened at Minho’s curt tone. “Fine, go ahead.”

“I think,” Minho closed his eyes, searching for a north star in the tiny lights that appeared behind his eyelids. “you like me, but I don’t know in what way you like me.”

“That’s not a question, hyung.”

“In what way do you like me?” Minho asked, finally opening his eyes.

Jisung eyebrows were knitted together. He looked hard at Minho, like he didn’t understand for even a moment why Minho would be asking that question.

“In what way should I like you, hyung?”

Minho felt his stomach drop to his knees. He saw this coming, he knew this was coming, so why did he ask in the first place? Why did he feel so incredibly stupid if he knew the answer?

“I don’t know,” Minho bit out with a giggle that Jisung hopefully couldn’t tell was false and forced. “I’m in a weird mood tonight, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Jisung hooked his pointer under Minho’s chin and lifted so he’d actually look at him instead of down at the popped seams on the arm of the chair. “Midterms are coming up, you’re really busy. You probably have a lot on your mind.”

He did, but exams weren’t the problem.

“Let yourself relax tonight, hyung. Let’s get you a drink.”

Jisung stood up and pulled on Minho’s arm and Minho, self-punitive as always, let him be tugged to the kitchen.

Minho listened as Jisung chatted while he meticulously made him a mix drink. He told Minho about the song he was working on, about how gross it would be if everyone drank beer out of straws, about the headphones he bought because he couldn’t stop thinking about then after seeing Dahyun unwrap her gift at the resort.

“I know I’m the one who recommended that model to you, but I’d never actually used them myself, I just heard that they were really good, and you should ask Dahyun if she’s liking them because I can’t believe I ever used to work out without them—“

“I’m sorry,” Minho whispered before taking the bottle of liquor out of Jisung’s hand, placing it on the counter, and kissing him.

He heard that same ‘oomph.’ He saw Jisung’s eyes close. He felt hands wrap around his waist.

But he noticed nothing else once he felt Jisung kiss him back.

“Um,” Jisung started once Minho gathered the restraint to let their lips part.

“I know what way I want you to like me,” Minho rushed to say. “As more than a friend, more than a fake boyfriend. I want you to like me for real. I like you, Jisung. I like you. Did I mention that? Just so we’re clear, I, Lee Minho, like you, Han Jisung, not as a fake boyfriend but—“

Jisung reached up and placed his hand over Minho’s mouth.

“This whole time you said you weren’t interested in dating, the whole point of this,” he motioned in between them with his other hand, “was because you didn’t want to be involved with anyone.”

Minho tried responding, but Jisung tightened his hold. “I tried my hardest to not like you from the moment you ordered water with a straw at the bar because this whole time I thought you’d never date me for real.”

“We are so stupid,” Jisung finally allowed Minho to say.

“Technically, this is your fault,” Jisung scolded, but he couldn’t keep a smile at bay.

“You could have told me.”

“You could have told me. “

“I’m telling you now,” Minho relented with hands gently holding Jisung’s cheeks, warm from the alcohol or from the confession, Minho couldn’t be sure. “I like you, and I want you to date me for real.”

Jisung brought his own hands to Minho’s cheeks. “I like you, too, and I’m pretty sure I’ve been dating you for real this whole time.”

“You two are so weird together.”

Minho and Jisung turned, both holding each other’s faces, to see Changbin standing in the kitchen.

“But fucking finally ” he added before crashing his friends into a hug.

___________

“We’re going camping this weekend,” Minho’s dad noted as he passed Minho’s favorite noodle dish to his right.

“Want to ask Jisung if he wants to tag along?” Dahyun asked.

“I’ll ask him,” Minho replied, hiding his smile ineffectively behind a serving spoon. “I think he’ll be free.”

___________