stray kids
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“You can do the 24-hour handcuff challenge!” Felix suddenly suggested, and the gears in Jisung's head immediately began to turn. “It's perfect for you and Minho-hyung, and your viewers would love that,” he added.
Jisung took pause; he had to admit that their idea could make for amusing content. He and Minho always had fun when they were together, and he knew that his subs love to see him with his best friend.
in which Jisung and Minho spend an entire day literally attached to each other, and certain revelations come about.
[ Russian ]
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Jisung has a shit night, a calculus exam, and a big fat crush on his roommate.
Minho brings him brownies.
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“So, Bin and I have been invited to a party..."
Jisung drones Chan out, distracts himself by running the silver ball of his tongue piercing against the roof of his mouth. He already decided he's not going out tonight.
“...what do you say? Think you can keep Minho distracted?”
Jisung grimaces, “Who the fuck is Minho?”
The optimistic smile on Chan’s face fractures, “Felix’s older brother.”
“Who the fuck is Felix?”
And the smile is gone, “The guy I’m like, really super into!” Chan deflates and slumps against the doorframe, looking defeated before he even had a chance to play.
<>
or;; Jisung will do just about anything for easy money. Keeping Lee Minho distracted for the night seems simple enough.
Russian translation!
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“I just kind of assumed you disliked me for some reason,” Minho admits easily. “You know, because of all the glaring?”
Jisung feels his cheeks scorch with the heat of embarrassment. “I wasn’t- I wasn’t glaring. I was just . . . looking at you.”
Minho tilts his head to the side. His eyes widen a fraction, lashes batting wildly as he blinks over at Jisung. “Why?”
Jisung almost wishes he could disappear, or hide behind the menu at the very least. “You’re . . . my co-star,” he says, finally.
“Your co-star,” Minho repeats, amused.
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Or, idol Han Jisung is acting in his first ever drama opposite seasoned actor and ex-ballerino Lee Minho. When their on-screen chemistry quickly becomes a trending topic, the producers ask them to fake a little off-screen chemistry to keep everyone's interest.
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“Minho.” Jisung said with finality. He still wore that same afflicted expression, but he stood up a little taller, visibly drawing in a deep breath and squaring his shoulders in a way that might have been comical had Minho felt in a laughing mood.
“Yeah…?” Minho prompted, side-eying his roommate as he bent down to slip his shoes off.
Fixing his gaze at a patch of white-painted wall, Jisung sprang the Question of the Year. “Will you be my—,” a short pause, “—fake boyfriend tomorrow?”
(Minho had always thought his roommate didn’t particularly like him—until Jisung asked him to be his fake date for a lunch out with nagging parents. After it, further misunderstandings sent what was supposed to be a single afternoon of pretending spiraling out of control.)
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For three years in a row, Felix and Han had won the Pi Alpha Phi Halloween Extravaganza costume contest. They were undefeated champions, tied for the longest winning streak in university history. Each year had been more complex and more risqué than the last. But this year, when they were supposed to be creating their magnum opus, their pièce de résistance, the sluttiest, most ingenious senior year couples costume to ever exist, Han had abandoned him.
Who will help him win?
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Hwang Hyunjin knows that his person is Lee Felix; maybe it is the way that Felix feels like another piece of him that is simply away from him and when they’re together, everything is slotted in place the way it should be. Any other twenty-two year old boy would probably try and question that almost painful kind of fondness that Hyunjin has for his best friend but Hyunjin doesn’t; nothing has really forced his hand so far.
That changes, of course; tonight, Hyunjin finds himself standing stock still in a room that is spinning around him, laced with alcohol and such a shocking amount of jealousy that it knocks the air out of him. Felix is halfway on someone’s lap- a boy with dark hair with streaks of green and a carved jawline- and their mouths are fused together with a level of assured confidence that comes as yet another blow to Hyunjin.
or a college AU in which jealousy and general dumbassery compels hyunjin and felix to take a closer look at the feelings that they have for each other.
Series
- Part 1 of college chronicles
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"You're really going to end up dancing in a bathrobe one day."
Minho seems allergic to maintaining a functional wardrobe. Somewhere between fake cat attacks and oddly familiar skinny jeans, a crush turns into something much harder to stitch up.
Or: Jisung works in a tailor shop and Minho crashes into his life with a ripped jacket and a tendency to keep coming back - 'accidentally' breaking his clothes just for an excuse to see him again
Series
- Part 1 of Pockets Full of Excuses
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“What are you making?” Jisung asks, signing with his hands, too, and Minho shouldn't find it as endearing as he does. That's literally his way of communicating, you jerk, he scolds himself and tries to act nonchalant as he stirs.
“Just some kimchi stew. Didn't feel like getting takeout tonight. You want some? I accidentally made too much.”
That's a lie. Of course he didn't accidentally make too much, he's not that stupid. It's all an elaborate mission to befriend Jisung; but the younger doesn't need to know about that.
Minho watches as Jisung's eyes sparkle and he gulps heavily.
“It looks delicious,” he whispers, his gaze not leaving the stew once. Minho thinks it's adorable, and he almost says as much, but he promptly bites his tongue and mentally shakes his head. Don't ruin this now.
Or, Minho gets a new roommate who's hard of hearing and Minho is, well, weak for cute boys
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“What the hell?”
The figure jumped at Minho’s sleep heavy voice, the microwave offering just enough light for Minho to see him turn, but not enough to make out any of his features. A few seconds later brightness flooded the room and Minho groaned, his hands slapping up to cover his eyes as his blanket pooled around his waist.
“Turn the lights back off.”
The boy didn’t listen, “Were you sleeping here?”
Minho pulled his hands away to give the boy a proper glare, hoping his bedhead and swollen face wouldn’t weaken the effect. The boy didn’t seem fazed, just blinked at Minho, waiting for an answer.
“Yes, I was sleeping here,” Minho finally grumbled, dropping back down onto the couch and tugging the blanket up over his face. “Can’t you make popcorn in your own room?”
“Can’t you sleep in your own room?” the boy countered. Minho ignored him. “I don’t have a microwave anymore. There was a bit of a fire situation.”