Minho was fifteen when he met the love of his life.
He didn’t know he was the love of his life until he was twenty, but who’s counting. Now he’s twenty-four, and he’s still in love with the pouty doe eyed boy he met when he went camping with his parents at fifteen.
Han Jisung. Stubborn little dude. Loud. Really loud.
He was crouching on a rock in the middle of a stream trying to find a crayfish in the water.
“What are you doing?” Minho asked.
“Isn’t this where the crayfish live?” Jisung answered.
“No, it’s further up.”
Jisung pouts.
Minho stares at his full bottom lip, jutting out perfectly.
“I’m Jisung.”
“Minho.”
“How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
“I’m thirteen.”
Minho hums.
And the rest is history.
Jisung had just moved back to Korea from Malaysia and was studying music. Turns out his family moved into the house across the street from Minho. Crazy how life works. They spent every day together. Wherever Minho was, Jisung was right beside him, and vice versa.
Fast forward five years.
Jisung went on his first date and Minho felt this weird stir in his stomach. Almost like he swallowed a mango pit and it was sitting like a stone in his middle. Her name was Rose. Jisung loved flowers, so when he met a girl with a flower name, naturally, he was asking her about how her parents picked the name and gave her endless little facts about roses. Obviously she found him adorable. Who wouldn’t? And she asked him to the movies.
So Jisung, not knowing anything about dates, asked his favorite hyung for advice. And Minho took him to the movies and told him what to do. As a good best friend would do.
But then the actual night came and Minho had a mango seed deep rooted in his stomach. His heart felt heavy in his chest. Because when Minho took Jisung to the movies, it was different. It wasn’t their usual movie date. This time Minho let Jisung pay for the popcorn and the chocolate and the soda with only one straw so they can share. He let Jisung put his arm around him in the recliner theater seats. He let his head rest on Jisung’s shoulder and smelled the sweet, but smoky cologne on his neck. This time it was different.
Then their practice date was over and Minho had a whirlwind of feelings swirling around him. Because Jisung is his best friend. The person he has spent every single day with since he was fifteen. Jisung is the first person Minho came out to. The first person he allowed inside his world.
Minho watched Jisung date Rose for six months. Eventually they got separate sodas on movie dates, they stopped sharing dessert at dinner, and movie nights cuddling on the couch were nonexistent.
But then Rose broke Jisung’s heart and the first person Jisng turned to was Minho. The person who was always there, waiting. And they shared sodas again, and dessert, and cuddles.
Until Jisung’s next relationship. And so on. For four years.
It was routine. And every day since their first practice date, Minho felt his feelings for his best friend grow stronger. He found himself staring, looking for Jisung in every room. He wasn’t loud anymore, he doesn’t overcompensate, and he keeps to himself. He’s grown into who he is and doesn’t try to be someone he’s not.
Minho knows more than anyone how much Jisung has grown into the man he is. The girls he dates get prettier and prettier. Each one falling in love with his big eyes, round cheeks and silky voice. So does Minho, but Jisung doesn’t like guys.
“Hyung, I have a question.” Jisung says, sitting down at the end of the couch in their shared apartment.
Minho was in the middle of cooking dinner for the two of them, because Minho has never cooked just for one person, and Jisung can’t even cook ramen without making the noodles soggy.
“I have an answer, jagiya.”
“Do you think I’m a bad kisser?”
Minho drops the spatula and it makes a loud clang on the kitchen tile. He blinks and runs out of the kitchen to see Jisung’s big doe eyes staring at him.
“Huh?”
“Do you think I’m a bad kisser? Juneon broke up with me today and said it’s because I don’t know how to kiss.” Jisung pouts.
Minho blinks. “I wouldn’t know, we’ve never kissed.”
Jisung sighs, “I mean, she was kinda weird, she never let me kiss her when we would have sex.”
Minho walks back into the kitchen and clenches his jaw. It’s gotten harder. It’s gotten harder to listen to Jisung talk about sex with his significant others. Jisung is an overthinker, a little bit of a yapper of sorts. He spares no details. Minho wishes he would.
He doesn’t need to know the details of fingering a girl and how he places his tongue –
“Hyung?”
Minho turns off the burner and cuts the seafood pancake to bring to the table. He sets it down and sees Jisung with his legs folded up to his chest and his eyebrows scrunched upwards. God Minho would do anything for this boy.
“Can we watch Howl’s?”
“Sure, Jisungie, come on, let's eat. Tell me what happened with Juneon.”
And the cycle continues. Jisung slept on Minho’s chest that night in the living room. Minho’s hand carded in Jisung’s hair. His other hand on the small of his back, holding him close. Jisung’s cheek was bunched up where it met Minho’s chest, the slow rise and fall of his back.
Minho loves watching Jisung sleep. It’s like sleeping doesn’t matter anymore because the illusions in your dreams don’t compare to what’s right in front of you.
Juneon and Jisung were together for four months. Minho never liked her. She was slightly pretentious and she didn’t like anime. How can you be in a relationship with Jisung and not like anime? Minho never understood what Jisung saw in her. Something about how she was a good conversationalist on global warming. Whatever. Minho is a good conversationalist. Sometimes. When he wants to be.
But he never needed to be with Jisung. They never stopped talking. Or rather, Jisung never stopped talking. Minho always listened. But isn’t that what makes a good pair? The one who never stops talking and the one who always listens? Anyway, Minho could be a good conversationalist.
He could also be into animals like Sana, or be able to play piano and guitar like Yoona, or sing like an angel like Ryu. Minho can be all of those things. Minho knows everything about Jisung. He knows how he brushes his teeth at night, his skin care routine. He knows how he likes his coffee and how he likes to sleep on the left side of the bed closest to the window so he can see the moon. He knows how Jisung likes to separate his food and eat them in sections. He knows how Jisung likes to be held and how to rub his back.
Minho knows he could give Jisung everything, but Minho is only Jisung’s best friend.
It’s been six months since Juneon and Jisung broke up. Minho starts getting antsy because Jisung is usually onto the next girl by now. Little did he know an explosion is about to throw his entire world off its axis.
“Hyung?”
Minho hums.
“Someone asked me out on a date today, and I said yes, but I’m nervous.”
Minho scrunches his eyebrows, “Why?”
Jisung bites his lip, “Because he’s older.”
Minho’s heart stops. He?
Jisung co*cks his head, “Hyung?”
“Did you just say he?” Minho whispers.
“Yeah, he’s really cute, he’s from Australia. He just started working at the label.” Jisung smiles.
Minho blinks, his brain short circuits, “I, I didn’t know you were –”
“I didn’t either. But we were hanging out more and more at the studio working on songs and I guess I just never saw anyone like that, and he asked me to go to the movies with him on Saturday to see the screening of Spirited Away.” Jisung smiles, again. Minho wants to throw up.
Minho takes a deep breath and stares at the carpet in the living room. Cleaning puke off carpet is a nightmare. He can’t throw up, he’s still renting. “I am just surprised.”
“I know we were gonna go watch it together, but he asked. Are you okay if I go with him?” Jisung makes himself small, his voice getting lost in the air between them.
“Huh? Yeah, we’ve gone every year, it’s fine.” Minho hears himself saying.
“Hyung?”
Minho nods.
“Can I ask you for something?”
Minho looks up then, Jisung's big doe eyes and little pout staring back at him. God, he’d still do anything for this boy.
“What is it?”
“Can you tell me if I’m a bad kisser?”
Minho blinks, “What?”
Jisung brings his knees to his chest and buries his face. “Can you kiss me and tell me if I’m a bad kisser?” It’s muffled, but it’s clear.
Minho gets up. “I need to pee.” He takes long strides to the bathroom and slams the door shut. He turns on the bathroom fan and hopes to god that the noise muffles out the voices in his head.
Kiss him? Kiss him? Minho sits on the toilet seat and rests his elbows on his knees staring at the tile in the bathroom.
“Kiss?” Minho whispers. “Did I miss something?”
Minho thinks back to the last six months. Jisung did start wearing cologne to work. He did start fixing his hair more and wearing jeans and fitted shirts instead of his usual hoodie and sweats. He did start working out again at the gym and was watching how much sweets he was eating. Jisung did start to pull away from Minho more and more.
Minho rests his face in his hands and groans. But a guy? Since when?
“Hyung?”
Minho flushes the toilet and stands up, “Sorry, I’ll be right out.”
He turns on the sink and splashes his face with cold water.
“Why me?” Minho asks as he walks back to the couch. Jisung is hugging a pillow now.
“Because, you’re my best friend. And you’re the one who taught me how to ride a bike and how to drive and how to go on dates and how to put on a condom. You taught me how to do everything, and now I’m nervous because I’m going on a date with a guy and what if Juneon was right and I am a bad kisser and I really like this guy. He’s sweet and funny and he’s kinda dorky. He loves music like I do and we get along well. He’s also a gentleman and he makes me feel this weird feeling in my stomach when he smiles at me.” Jisung covers his face.
Minho feels the mango seed in his stomach again. No, it's bigger now, like a watermelon. His throat closes up and he can barely breathe. He feels this weird pain in his eyes, tears, maybe? He blinks them away before Jisung looks up. His hands are sweating and he chews on the inside of his cheek. He looks up at Jisung, his cheeks are a bright pink, his eyes focused on his nail beds. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, a habit he does when he’s nervous. Minho knows, because he’s known Jisung for nine years. He’s loved Jisung for nine years. He’s been in love with Jisung for four.
“Okay.” Minho whispers. Because it’s Jisung. His Jisung. Or his best friend, Jisung. Not really his. Only his dreams.
Jisung looks up and lets out a breath. “Really, hyung?”
Minho nods. He swallows down the lump in his throat. He may never get this. He may never get to kiss Jisung. This might be the one and only time he’ll be able to have this small piece. Maybe he’ll be able to do this and move on. Maybe he can get a taste and then it’ll be enough to finally let someone else in. Someone he won’t compare to Jisung like he’s done with countless dates. With all of his failed relationships and all of his failed hook ups. Maybe he’ll be able to finally satisfy whatever sick obsession he has with his best friend and move on.
“Okay, let me brush my teeth.” Jisung jumps up and sprints to the bathroom.
Minho watches and gets up and follows. Jisung already had his toothbrush ready, with toothpaste on it holding it out for Minho to take. Minho stares at Jisung through the mirror. Watching his mouth bubble up with toothpaste and how he pays special attention to every tooth in his mouth. Minho knows Jisung counts to 120 in his head as he brushes his teeth. Following the ever so perfect dental routine since he got a single cavity when he was fourteen. He watches as Jisung spits into the sink and scrubs his toothbrush on his tongue, gagging because his toothbrush went too far back on his tongue.
They move back to the couch facing each other. Jisung scoots forward and rests his arms on Minho’s shoulders like he’s done countless times before. It’s different this time, it’s completely different.
“Hyung.” Jisung rests his forehead on Minho’s.
“Jisungie.” Minho whispers.
“You’re sweating.”
“It’s hot.”
Jisung giggles. Minho lifts his head and looks at Jisung. His big brown eyes were staring back at him. The perfect brown eyes he saw looking for crayfish in the stream. His eyebrows are scrunched up making him look even cuter. His perfect little nose, the chocolate chip mole on his cheek and the perfect curve of his jaw. Then his lips, his fuller bottom lip, slicked with spit and swollen from biting. Jisung is perfect.
“Ready?” Minho asks.
Jisung licks his lips and nods.
Minho leans in and the second their lips touch, electricity shoots through him. It’s like fire spreading rapidly across his entire body. Dancing on his skin and lava flowing through his veins like a volcano just erupted from within him. Minho cups Jisung’s jaw and turns his head. Jisung licks Minho’s lip, asking for access. And Minho gives it to him. Another spurt from the volcano, another flow of hot heat down his throat and into his stomach and it keeps going. Jisung’s fingers slip into the back of Minho’s head, threading the hair on his nape and tugs.
Minho moans, his mouth still moving in tandem with Jisung, their mouths still connected and Minho moves. He pushes Jisung down onto his back and crawls over him, his legs straddling either side of his tiny waist and licks behind his teeth and sucks on his tongue. Jisung moans then, and before another spurt of lava can erupt within Minho, Jisung pulls his hair, disconnecting them.
Minho stares down at Jisung, his pupils are blown, his eyes half lidded and he’s panting.
“I’m gonna take that I’m not a bad kisser.”
“I don’t know, let me check again.” Minho leans down again, kissing him harder this time. Jisung giggles against his lips and Minho feels another burst of lava in his chest. Jisung’s hands roam Minho’s back, under his shirt and his touch leaves goosebumps in its wake. Minho feels the heat in his groin and starts to grind down when Jisung stops his hips.
“Hyung?” Jisung says, pulling away.
Minho whines, but then Jisung taps his cheek. He looks down at him and reality sets in.
“Oh my god.” Minho says, jumping off of Jisung and scooting as far away as possible. He grabs a pillow to cover the very real erection in his sweatpants and the wet spot that he can definitely feel. His face turns a bright red all the way from his ears down his neck and he’s sweating, more than he already was.
Jisung sits up, wiping his mouth and smirks, “So, I am a good kisser?”
Minho groans into the pillow, “Juneon is an idiot I can’t believe she said that to you.”
Jisung laughs, “Good to know.” He wrings his hands and that’s when Minho notices the tent in his own pants.
“I see I’m also a good kisser.” Minho chuckles.
Jisung pulls a pillow into his lap and clears his throat, “Yeah, yup.”
This is the first time in nine years there’s awkward silence between them. Minho audibly swallows and Jisung glances at him.
“Hyung?”
“Hmm?”
“Are we okay?”
Minho waves his hand “of course, Jisungie, why wouldn’t we be?”
Jisung smiles, “Thanks, hyung. For everything.”
“Anytime.” Minho smiles.
Jisung gets up and goes to his room. Minho ends up following suit and lays down in his bed.
“What have I done?” Minho whispers.
Minho dreams of Jisung that night. And the night after that. Because who was he kidding. Kissing Jisung wasn’t gonna help him get over him. No, kissing Jisung just made him want him more. Because now, he got a taste, and he’s addicted. Insatiable. It’s like being in a desert and looking for that small oasis in the middle. But you find out it’s just a mirage.
Now Minho is even more aware of Jisung’s cologne, even more aware of his hands when they share sushi at the dinner table. More aware of the clothes he wears and the new hoop earrings on his ears because “Channie hyung said they look good on me.”
Minho is even more aware of the dead volcano in his heart. His skin tingles whenever Jisung smiles down at his phone, or when Jisung texts Minho he won’t be home for dinner because Chan is taking him out. So Minho started cooking for one, because Jisung is hardly home.
At least this time around, Minho doesn’t hear about the sex. Jisung said they’ve been taking it slow, haven’t taken that next step physically. Minho just listens, because well, he’s always just listened. Jisung tells Minho about how they started a new anime together and how they like the same ice cream. He tells him all about how much Chan can lift at the gym because they go on gym dates now. Even though Jisung hates doing active things.
And then Jisung asks Minho to meet Chan. And Minho wishes Chan wasn’t so damn perfect. He’s stupidly hot and has the cutest face. He is just as sweet and caring as Jisung said he is. He’s funny and dorky and a little bit shy. It’s disgusting. He’s an extrovert, can make conversation with anyone in the room, his smile is bright and his dimples are an added effect to draw more people in. It’s rude, actually. To be that f*cking cute.
Then he sees the way Jisung’s arm snakes around Chan’s and that lump in his throat is back. He watches Jisung’s big brown eyes look up at Chan, so adoringly. So fond. The watermelon in his stomach is back, and it’s sinking lower. His heart feels heavier, his eyes prickle with pain. Minho excuses himself, makes the excuse that he’s tired and has to get up early for work.
When he lays down in his bed that night, Jisung texts him. Says he’s gonna stay the night with Chan with a winky face. Then, instead of spurts of lava in his chest, its like a dam had been broken. The tears come and he holds onto his chest as it constricts into a knot. His breathing becomes ragged and he can’t see. His tears shroud his eyes and soak the pillow, his whimpers getting lost under the blanket and it hurts. His entire body shakes, it’s too much.
Once his shoulders stop shaking and his breathing even out, he’s left alone again with his thoughts. The pictures of him and Jisung above his desk, mocking him. Minho, the one always left to be his hyung who taught him everything. Minho, the one always waiting for Jisung to come running back to him after his heart was broken. Minho, the one who knows everything about Jisung, but too scared to tell him how he feels. Minho, who thought the entire time Jisung was straight, and didn’t have a chance, but maybe if he just said something then maybe he wouldn’t be crying in his bed all alone.
Minho has a dreamless sleep that night.
Jisung is in the kitchen when he wakes up, stirring his coffee.
“Didn’t expect you to be back so early.” Minho grumbles, his face is puffy from crying, and if Jisung looks at him he’ll know.
Jisung doesn’t look up, “Me either.”
Minho looks at him. He looks like he’s been crying. “Sung, what happened? Did he hurt you? Did he try to do something? Jisung.”
Jisung shakes his head, “No, he was very sweet, but I just got nervous and we didn’t do anything. He didn’t force me, I swear.” Jisung looks up then. “Hyung, were you crying?”
Minho waves his hand, “Why are you so sad?”
“I –” Jisung looks down at his coffee again. “I didn’t know what to do. I’ve only been with girls.”
Minho sighs, “It’s not that different.”
“It’s very different.” Jisung snorts.
“I mean, it’s still a hole.” Minho pulls out a pan to make omelets. Jisung always loves omelets.
“It’s a different hole! It’s also like not, it doesn’t, you need to use lube, hyung.” Jisung stares.
“Jisung, I’m gay. I know.” Minho laughs.
“He said he would let me top, but I didn’t know what to do. He said he’d open himself up, and what does that even mean?” Jisung rubs his face.
Minho snorts, “So you started crying because you got too nervous?”
“Don’t laugh at me.” Jisung pouts.
“Didn’t you do research? You always do research.” Minho starts rolling the omelets.
“Yes, but p*rn doesn’t show you the prep part. It just shows you the f*cking.”
“You have to loosen up the hole before sticking your dick in it or else it hurts.” Minho shudders.
“Like with your fingers?”
“You’ve fingered girls before, it’s the same thing.”
“No it’s not!” Jisung gasps.
“I wouldn’t know I’ve never been with a woman.” Minho throws his hands in the air. “But yes, with your fingers, and with a lot of lube, and you have to go slow and let the other person adjust before you keep going.”
Jisung stares, blinking rapidly as Minho sets his omelet down in front of him.
Minho makes his own omelet as Jisung lets his words sink in. Once Minho sits down at the table across from Jisung, Jisung asks a question to throw Minho’s entire world off axis.
“Can you teach me?”
Minho spits out his coffee. He’s coughing and his mouth is burned and his throat is closing in on itself. Once he regains control of his breathing and cleans up the spit and coffee on the table, Minho sits up and stares at Jisung, “You’re joking.”
“No, hyung, I just want to be good, I just want to know what I’m doing.” Jisung pouts.
“I’m not gonna have sex with you when you’re dating someone else. No.” Minho glares.
Jisung sighs, “What if I’m bad at it?” He starts pushing his food around on the plate.
“Then he’s not the right guy for you, but Sungie, you’re not gonna get it right the first time, and that’s okay.” Minho reaches over and holds Jisung’s hand. “Chan wouldn’t laugh at you, he’s a good guy.”
Jisung smiles, “Thanks, hyung.”
Minho swallows, “Eat, before it gets cold.”
They eat, and Jisung tells Minho all about his night with Chan. About how Chan held him while he cried and told him it’s okay. About how Chan made him hot chocolate told him they’ll try again another time. Minho has to force his food to go down because he has that lump in his throat. He has to force the tears to stay in the back of his head and not spill out. He has to force himself not to scowl whenever Jisung yaps about how incredible Chan is.
Minho finds himself the following weekend at a bar downtown drinking whiskey looking for something to distract him. Because Jisung is sleeping over at Chan’s and Minho doesn’t want to lay in bed crying again. Like he’s been doing for days on end.
“You.” Minho says, “come here.”
A puppy looking boy scoffs, but obeys.
“How old are you?” Minho asks.
“Nice to meet you, too.” Puppy smiles sarcastically.
“What’s your name?”
“You’ve just got a way with words.” Puppy laughs.
“You’re not answering my questions.” Minho smirks.
“You’re not asking the right questions.”
Minho looks him up and down. He’s lean, wearing a button up shirt, rolled up on the sleeves, drinking a beer. His hair is styled out of his face, pushed back, he has a sharp jaw, and a pretty smile.
“Cute.” Minho sips his whiskey. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
“The blonde, over there.”
Minho follows his line of vision and sees a petite blonde boy. Also lean, blinding smile, high cheekbones and soft eyes. He looks like a fairy straight out of a children’s book.
“Pretty.”
“Wanna be a third?”
Minho hums, “How old are you guys?”
“Twenty-two. I’m Seungmin, that’s Felix.”
“Minho. Your place good?”
“Follow me.”
And Minho does.
Jisung doesn’t come back the following morning. Minho makes an omelet for himself and stares at it, his tears falling onto the table. He ended up telling Seungmin and Felix about Jisung post sex. It wasn’t his finest moment, venting to a couple of strangers about how he’s in love with his best friend who’s out f*cking some other dude and he’s too much of a coward to say anthing. Felix holds him, Seungmin makes them tea and they try to convince him that his and Jisung’s friendship is stronger than that. They’re good together, Felix and Seungmin, they complement each other well. It reminds him of him and Jisung, and that made him cry more.
Jisung doesn’t come back that night either, Minho cries himself to sleep. He knows he has to say something, he has to do something about it. He knows that he can’t keep living like this. But it’s Jisung. His best friend since he was fifteen. The one person in the world he would do anything for. The one person he would always catch whenever he falls.
It’s not that Minho doesn’t care about his own happiness, he does. He just wants Jisung to be happy too. He wants Jisung to be loved and love freely. He wants his best friend to have the entire world and the moon and the stars because he loves him. Because Minho loves Jisung and it’s always been like that.
Their friends always said they were like chopsticks, glued together like two peas in a pod. Wherever Minho was, Jisung was close by and vice versa. But now, Jisung has Chan. And he’s sweet and kind and funny. He takes care of Jisung and makes him feel good and is probably teaching Jisung new things about himself. That’s okay, Minho thinks. It’s okay.
The days turn into weeks and Jisung doesn’t talk about Chan as much. He could probably see the scowl on Minho’s face or the disappointment in his voice whenever his name is brought up. Sometimes they eat dinner together, but most of the time, Jisung is barely home. He’s “working late at the studio.” They have a “big album contract coming up.” Maybe Jisung is just speaking in code now because he knows Minho can’t hide it anymore.
Jisung pulls away, like he always does when he gets in a relationship. Minho knows it’s okay, but this time feels different. Maybe this time, Jisung won’t run back to Minho because Chan won’t break his heart. So Minho swallows the lump in his throat and tries to move on, but of course, he can’t stop comparing every single person to Jisung, because even though his heart is broken, when it heals, it beats for Jisung.
“Minho?”
Minho looks up from the pack of ramyun he’s reading at the grocery store. “Oh, Chan-hyung, hey.”
“Long time no see, how’ve you been?” Chan asks.
“Good, busy. How are you?”
“Hanging in there, this new album is really kicking our butts.” Chan laughs.
Minho smiles.
“Has Jisung talked to you yet?” Chan asks, tentatively.
“About what?”
Chan bites his lip, “Nevermind.”
Minho scrunches his eyebrows, “About what?”
“I just hope he isn’t mad at me.” Chan sighs.
Minho’s heart rate picks up, “Why would he be mad at you?”
Chan clenches his jaw, “I shouldn’t be the one to say anything, I think you should talk to him.”
“Talk to him about what?” Minho’s voice takes on an edge. He’s getting frustrated. “Did you hurt him or something?”
Chan waves his hands in the air, “No, or well, maybe?”
Minho clenches his fists and throws the pack of ramyun into his cart, “What did you do?”
Chan’s eyes go wide, “Wait, it’s not what you think. We broke up like a month ago.”
Minho blinks. “What?”
“The night he stayed over for the weekend. We decided we were better off as friends.”
“I’m confused. Jisung has been spending a lot of time with you at the studio.”
“We’ve really been working on the album. They wanna do a triple release, so we’ve been working a lot. Seriously, there’s nothing going on between us. I started dating someone else actually.” Chan rambles.
Minho rubs his face, “Okay well if you both decided that you’re better off as friends, why would he be mad at you?”
Chan sighs, “Please just talk to him.”
“If you don’t tell me right now, I’m going to punch you in your pretty face.”
“You think I’m pretty?”
Minho lifts his fist.
“Wait! I told him he needs to tell you that he’s in love with you!” Chan yells, shielding his face.
Everything stops. Minho stares at Chan like he grew a second head and the ringing in his ears is so loud it’s almost silent.
“Minho?”
“What did you just say?”
Chan sighs, “Please talk to Jisung. He’s been miserable for weeks. He’s been avoiding you because he’s scared to tell you.”
Minho leaves his cart in the middle of the aisle and races home. He doesn’t stop until he’s inside their apartment right in front of Jisung’s door. He raises his hand to knock when Jisung opens the door and squeals.
“Hyung! You scared me!” Jisung grabs his chest.
“You’re in love with me?” Minho asks, out of breath.
Jisung stares at him with those big brown doe eyes. His mouth is open, he tries to talk, but no words come out. He walks backwards until the back of his knees hit his bed and he scoots as far back against the headboard as he can and pulls his knees up to his chest, making himself as small as possible.
“Jisungie?” Minho says, softly, following him into the room and stopping at the end of his bed.
“Who told you that?” Jisung whispers.
“Jisungie, just tell me.”
Jisung squeaks and buries his face into his knees. Minho crawls onto the bed and tries to pull Jisung into his arms.
“Hyung.” Jisung cries. “I don’t want to ruin this.”
Minho’s heart aches, “you can’t, just tell me.”
Jisung shakes his head.
Minho sighs and pulls away, he sits cross legged and takes a deep breath. “I have something to tell you.”
Jisung stills and slowly peaks his head out from his knees.
“I thought I never had a chance because you only liked girls. But then you started dating Chan and in my head I just thought, wow, he really just doesn’t like me.” Minho chuckles.
“That’s okay, I guess when you started liking Chan it clicked in my head that you only saw me as your hyung. Someone who taught you things and was always here to just pick up the pieces. But then you asked me to kiss you and I thought, okay, this is how you’ll get over him. But it didn’t help. It didn’t help because I got a taste of you and it was like drinking water for the first time.” Minho watches his tear drops hit the blanket.
“Then I met Chan, and he was perfect. He’s everything I’m not and it made sense. He’s charming, and outgoing, he’s sweet and funny and kind. He’s got a beautiful smile and a cute laugh and he’s not like me at all.” Minho chuckles.
“It made sense why you chose him. Because he’s perfect. How could I compare?” Minho sniffles. “Then you stayed the night. And it made sense. He would be the one to make you come undone and make you feel things you’ve never felt and it wouldn’t be me because why would it be? Because you’re beautiful, Sung. God, you’re so beautiful. Your big eyes and your little pout and the way you shine in every room you walk into. The way you make people laugh without trying and your smile makes the birds sing. Every girl who broke your heart didn’t deserve your love because you’re everything and everywhere and you deserve the whole entire world and the moon and stars. I wish it could be me, but you deserve sunshine, not darkness. I don’t shine like Chan-hyung. I can’t sing like an angel like Ryu, I’m not a good conversationalist like Juneon and I can’t talk about animals like Sana.”
Minho feels movement in front of him and Jisung’s hands are at his cheeks, wiping away his tears, forcing him to look up at him. When their eyes meet Minho sees the tear stains on his cheeks and his bottom lip bitten raw. His eyebrows are scrunched together; there's a crease in the middle of his forehead.
“Hyung, you know what all of those people have in common?”
Minho shakes his head.
“They’re not you. Because Chan-hyung doesn’t know that I like my hot chocolate with exactly five marshmallows and a drop of chocolate bar and milk. Because Ryu’s singing doesn’t make my heart skip a beat like when you sing under your breath in the car. Because Juneon can’t jump from topic to topic with me and follow along like that’s just how the conversation is supposed to go. Because Sana didn’t know that I love watching documentaries until I had it memorized in my head. Because for four years I was stupid enough to think that my cool hyung who was brave enough to come out as gay at sixteen would ever think the scrawny little kid who lived across the street would be good enough for him.”
Jisung wipes the tears that escape Minho’s eyes, “The real reason Chan-hyung and I broke up was because I couldn’t stop talking about you. I could stop telling him about all the things you love and the way you make my omelets exactly how I want them. I couldn’t stop telling him about how you look so cute in the mornings with your bed head and pouty lips. He knew I was in love with you. He knew no one would ever compare to you.”
Jisung leans in connecting their mouths. It’s messy, their mouths opening instantly taking each other in, both of them covered in tears and snot, but it doesn’t matter, because this time it’s different. Because this time, it’s like sliding into home.
Minho pulls away first and laughs, grabbing a tissue from Jisung’s side table. “Gross.” He blows his nose and wipes his face. Jisung does the same and they stare at each other.
“We’re stupid.” Minho chuckles.
“You’re stupid. Why didn't you make a move on me?” Jisung slaps him playfully.
“I thought you were straight!” Minho laughs.
“Because I didn’t want another guy!”
“What about Chan-hyung?”
“It was to make you jealous, you idiot!” Jisung hits him with a pillow. “You think I kissed you because I thought I was a bad kisser?”
Minho stares at him, “What?”
“You’re so dumb!” Jisung hits him again with the pillow, but this time Minho grabs it and tosses it off the bed. He grabs both of Jisung’s hands and pins him down on his back, his hands pinned above his head as Minho holds him down in place.
“You went out with Chan to make me jealous?” Minho seethes.
Jisung swallows, “Well no, I did go out with him because he asked, but like, I knew it would make you jealous, and I just wanted you to do something!”
Minho tightens his grip on Jisung’s wrists. Jisung whines. “You made me suffer for months, because you wanted to make me jealous?”
“You wouldn’t have suffered if you just said something!” Jisung yells.
Minho sits up, “I can’t believe you.”
“How else was I supposed to get you to finally make a move?”
“I don’t know, tell me you loved me too?” Minho shrugs. “Wow, I f*cked a couple of twinks to try to get over you too.”
Jisung mouth drops, “What?”
“Don’t get jealous, we weren’t even together, this is when I thought you were getting dicked down by Chan hyung. Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” Minho scoffs.
Jisung scowls, “Who are they?”
“They’re a couple, you don’t need to worry. I was just a third.”
Jisung blinks, “Were they cute?”
Minho smirks, “I only f*ck cute guys.”
“You haven’t f*cked me. Am I not cute?” Jisung crosses his arms.
“You want me to f*ck you pretty boy? Do you even know what to do?” Minho laughs.
Jisung clenches his jaw and looks away. He shakes his head and then looks up at Minho with big brown eyes and a little pout.
“Can you teach me?”
Minho bites his lip, “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
“Hyung, I wanna be dicked down by you, I wanna know what it's like, teach me, please, I’ll be good for you, I promise.” Jisung whines.
“Shut up.” Minho laughs.
“You love when I yap.” Jisung smiles.
“Do you really love me?” Minho whispers.
“I’ve loved you since you said ‘what are you doing?’ nine years ago. Since I was thirteen years old with no friends and the most handsome guy I’ve ever seen in my entire life decided that I was gonna be his best friend. Hyung, of course I love you.” Jisung crawls into Minho’s lap and wraps his arms around his shoulders.
“I love you so much, Jisungie, it hurts.” Minho says, connecting their foreheads.
“Where does it hurt?” Jisung asks.
“Right here.” Minho points to his heart. “Kiss it better?”
“Of course, jagiya.” Jisung leans down and presses a light kiss on Minho’s chest and then trails soft kisses up his neck, onto his jaw until he meets his lips again. “Teach me.” Jisung whispers between kisses.
“It’ll be more comfortable for you if I bottom.” Minho breathes.
“No, I want to feel you inside me. Please.” Jisung grinds his hips down, rubbing himself on Minho’s already half hard dick.
“f*ck, Jisungie.” Minho groans, his arms wrapping around Jisung’s back pulling him closer.
Jisung bites Minho’s lip and pulls, watching it snap back into place. “I’m gonna clean up, I did research this time.”
He jumps off of Minho’s lap and pulls a bag out from under his bed. His ears are red and he’s biting his lip and he scampers off to the bathroom. Minho watches him leave and then lays back on Jisung’s bed. Reality sets in and Minho’s kicking his feet and rolling on the bed like a little kid. He jumps off the bed and runs to his room to get lube and a condom. He brushes his teeth and smells his armpits and sprays his cologne on his neck.
“What are you doing?” He asks himself in the mirror. Because this is crazy. He’s about to have sex with his best friend. His best friend of nine years who he’s been secretly in love with him for four and all of sudden they confess to each other and now they’re going to have sex. Minho swallows the lump in his throat and goes back to Jisung’s room. He’s already sitting on the bed, only wearing his boxers and that f*ckass white tshirt he always wears.
Minho sits at the edge of the bed, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Jisung looks at him with big eyes, “Do you not want to?” He pulls his knees to his chest.
“Wait, baby, of course I do, I just don’t want to rush things.” Minho clenches his jaw.
“Oh. You wanna like go on a date first and get to know each other?” Jisung co*cks his head.
Minho scoffs, “Shut up.”
Jisung smiles, “Come here. Stop overthinking.”
Minho crawls over to him and lays down on top of him, their legs intertwining. “Aren’t you the overthinker?”
“Yes, so stop stealing my job. Kiss me, you idiot.” Jisung laughs.
And Minho does.
And he takes his time. He kisses Jisung because he’s waited for far too long. He kisses Jisung’s mouth, his jaw, his neck and his chest. He’s slow and deliberate and his hands explore every inch of his body. The way he sucks in a breath when Minho takes his nipples into his mouth and swirls his tongue over the sensitive buds. Minho mouths and sucks marks on the tiny little waist he’s loved for years. His hands caressing his sides, feeling his muscles tense as he moves lower and lower.
Minho takes his time trailing kisses from Jisung’s ankles all the way to the insides of his thighs, biting and purposely avoiding his leaking co*ck. Minho takes his time even when Jisung begs and begs to be touched, but doesn’t dare touch himself because he promised to be good for his hyung. When Minho finally takes Jisung’s length into his mouth, Jisung fists the sheets and c*ms down Minho’s throat, but Minho keeps going, because Minho knows Jisung like the overstimulation. He told him once, and Minho never forgot.
Once Jisung is fully hard again, and tears are falling out the sides of his eyes, Minho moves back to his mouth and rubs lube between his fingers and circles his entrance.
“Relax for me, tell me if it’s too much and you want me to stop.” Minho whispers.
Jisung gasps as Minho breaches him. His finger slowly moving into his heat, feeling the tight walls.
“Are you okay?”
“A little uncomfortable.” Jisung winces.
“It’ll start to feel good once you get used to it.” Minho kisses Jisung’s neck and behind his ear. Listening to Jisung moan as he adds a second and third finger, crooking upwards just slightly until –
“Oh f*ck!” Jisung screams, his hips jolting upwards on instinct.
Minho giggles, “There it is.” He continues to rub his fingers over and over that spot until Jisung is crying and whining, his feet kicking the sheets to try and get away.
“Okay okay, too much too much!” Jisung screams.
Minho backs off, rubbing soothing circles on Jisung’s thigh. “Ready for me?”
Jisung nods as he watches Minho roll on the condom and apply more lube to his aching co*ck.
“You’re big.” Jisung whines.
“You can take it.” Minho says, lining up. He pushes in slowly, Jisung grabbing the pillow by his head. Minho takes another pillow and positions it under Jisung’s hips, then he pushes all the way to the hilt. It’s almost too much. Jisung’s heat is all consuming and the drag of his walls around him is all too perfect. Minho is slotted inside like a perfect fit like he’s meant to be there.
“You’re so f*cking tight.” Minho clenches his jaw.
“So full, what the f*ck, oh my god.” Jisung babbles.
Minho begins moving and Jisung is already a whining mess underneath him. He’s pulling Minho down to him and scratching his back and shoulders and Minho rolls his hips. Jisung’s moans and cries are music to Minho’s ears. He’s loud and Minho loves it. Their both sweating and panting. Jisung’s legs wrap around Minho’s waist and Minho starts to push his legs up to get a better angle.
“Yeah, baby, feel good?” Minho pants.
“Yes yes yes yes yes yes.” Jisung screams.
“I love your moans, god you’re so perfect.”
Jisung whines and then Minho hits his prostate. Jisung cries out even louder, his feet drop the bed, kicking the sheets. Minho continues his own org*sm building. The volcano in his chest erupts again, spurts shooting out and lava runs through all of his veins. Jisung’s body radiating heat and surrounding him. They’re cologne and natural scents mixing in the air between them and Minho groans in pleasure.
“Hyung, Minho, jagi, f*ck, oh my god.” Jisung’s eyes are squeezed shut and he’s drooling. Tears are flowing out his eyes and his hair is sticking to his forehead from the sweat.
“Tell me Jisungie, tell hyung.” Minho reaches down and pumps Jisung’s aching dick in tune with his thrusts.
Jisung’s eyes shoot open and he stares directly into Minho’s eyes, “Inside, hyung, cum inside me please. Please please please!” Jisung clenches and he c*ms all over Minho’s hand and his stomach. Minho follows after, Jisung’s hole clenching around him sending him over the edge.
“Oh f*ck!” Minho screams as he buries himself deeper and deeper into Jisung. He falls onto Jisung, covering him with his weight. They’re both panting, coming down from their highs.
“Hyung?”
“Hmm?”
“Heavy.”
Minho groans and pulls out slowly, Jisung sucks in a breath and Minho tosses the condom into the trash. He lays down next to Jisung and pulls him close. Jisung turns and hooks his leg over Minho’s hip and intertwines their legs so they’re facing each other.
“Are you okay?” Minho asks, petting Jisung’s hair.
“Mmhmm, a little sore, but expected. You?”
“More than.” Minho kisses him softly. “How was it?”
Jisung smiles, “I don’t know, let’s do it again.”
Minho laughs, “Insatiable.”
“Making up for lost time.” Jisung strokes Minho’s cheek and it's different this time.
They do it again and again and again, because they’re both insatiable. Then Minho makes them food and Jisung puts on a movie. This time Minho gets to cuddle with Jisung as much as he wants. This time Minho doesn’t have to wait for Jisung to come running back to him. This time Minho finally got his guy. God would he do anything for him.
