Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

─ · :·᯽·: · ─

“Minho!” Jisung burst out without thinking. He wished he could hide, but the path was entirely out in the open. And Jisung had just addressed him informally. Oh god, this was so embarrassing.

“What are you doing here?” Minho asked, breathing heavily from his run. He didn’t sound angry, just stunned and curious.

“Um, vacation,” Jisung replied and then pointed behind him. “Aunt and uncle. Sightseeing.” 

Minho looked good. Like, really good. Jisung was having trouble keeping his eyes from wandering too much. His loose fitted white tank top showed off his shoulders and biceps. And his shorts were…short. Why hadn’t he ever noticed before how sculpted Minho’s thighs were? He’d clearly been running for a while now, as the shirt clung to the outline of his chest where his sweat soaked through deep into the neckline in the most delicious way. 

“Hiking,” Jisung sputtered. He felt overwhelmed with an urge to lick that sweat off of his pretty face and right down his neck towards—

Wait. What?

“Hiking?” Minho repeated.

“Yeah.”

Jisung tried harder to find his abilities for more coherent speech. His tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. “My aunt and uncle have taken me or my brothers or cousins on a trip with them every summer. It’s kind of a tradition?” 

“Yes, right, good.” Minho blinked back at him again a few times.

“What are you doing here?” Jisung parroted the question.

“I live here.”

“On the bike path?” Oh god, he was an idiot. He wished the earth would crack open right under his feet and swallow him whole.

Minho chuckled out an amused little puff of air. “No, of course not. But it is a nice place to run, along the water.”

“I thought you didn’t, or thought that you wouldn’t be…uh, cause we heard the house was turned into a community center.”

“It was. There’s a smaller house, a hanok, a little further down the river. My home.”

“Oh.” After a pause, Jisung exclaimed, “You live in a hanok??” 

Jisung was trying to wrap his mind around PDnim Lee Minho living somewhere so…quaint. Didn’t people from Seoul prefer sleek rectangular minimalism? 

“It’s modernized, but yes.”

The silence that grew between them was punctuated only with the sound of Minho’s breathing gradually slowing and the soft wind gently shifting the leaves on the trees. They just kept staring at one another. 

“So, how are you? You’re doing well?” Minho ventured to ask.

“Yes, good, yeah, I’ve been good. You?”

“Yes, fine, things are fine. And the shop? Your family? Everyone's okay?” Minho asked.

“Yes, we’re all staying healthy and eating well.” 

“I’m glad.” Minho nodded.

Another silence surrounded them.

“We watched Waiting for Death religiously in our house,” Jisung said. “We…I really loved it. It was fantastic. I hope you'll be making Vengeance next.”

“I’m glad,” Minho said again. “That means a lot coming from a dedicated fan. Coming from you.”

Jisung could only stand there and blink stupidly at what…might have been a compliment?

By then, Aunt Sooja and Uncle Yoon caught up to them and were looking curiously between Jisung and his apparent friend. Their arrival seemed to snap some sense into Minho and he acted on everyone’s behalf. 

“I don’t want to keep you from spending time with your family. It was good to see you, Jisung-ssi. I’m glad you’re doing well.” Minho smiled warmly at him, though with a hint of melancholy, and gave a deep, sweaty bow to all three of them. He swept past and continued his run up the trail. 

Jisung was frozen in amazement. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Lee Minho give such a deep, respectful bow to anyone before. Not even his own uncle. Why would he —

“Jisung, was that who I think it was?” Aunt Sooja asked.

“Lee Minho,” he mumbled. The man himself. This was it. This was his opportunity and he was wasting it. What was he doing standing there? 

Don’t be afraid of what’s in your heart.

He needed to—

“I’ll be right back.” 

Jisung pulled the straps of his backpack tight to help firm up his resolve and ran to catch up to Minho, leaving his aunt and uncle behind once again. 

“Minho-ssi!” he shouted. 

Minho stopped and turned to face him, curiosity blanketing his expression.

“I wanted to say…” Jisung said when he arrived in front of Minho, a little breathless, but his words seemed to spill out at lightning speed.

“I read your letter. I read it as soon as you gave it to me. I read it a hundred times over. And I’m sorry that I misjudged things, that I misjudged you. The more I thought about it, Eunji’s behavior was inappropriate and I really should have seen through it a lot sooner. I’m sorry that she took advantage of you and your family, I’m sorry that she made me think badly of you. And I appreciate your apology about Chan and Chaeyoung. I haven’t told Chan about any of it, I didn’t think it would really make him feel better or help him with getting over her if they aren’t going to... Honestly, Lixie should talk to him and clear the air first, but that’s not really the point. The thing is—”

Jisung took a large breath as he continued, willing more thoughts to finally leave his mind and be exposed out in the open. “I think I understand what you meant about writing me a letter to explain everything, cause I probably could have texted you or called you to say all this. Anything except for telling you face-to-face felt wrong, but I didn’t really know if you’d…but I’m glad I got the chance to tell you…whatever it was that I just said.”

Minho’s face remained stoic for the whole duration of the speech and Jisung didn’t know how to interpret the lack of reaction. But after a moment, Minho lifted his head towards the sky and let out a breath, looking back at Jisung with warmth in his eyes and a smile threatening to make an appearance.

“Thank you, Jisung-ssi. I’m glad I got to see you too. I told Lixie what you told me. She’s processing. Probably just afraid to face Chan, but I know that she feels the responsibility of it. I certainly do too.“

“I hope she’ll reach out. I think Chan would at least listen.”

“I hope you’re right.” Though Minho didn’t sound as sure about his friend’s courage.

“And they deserve a chance to start over.”

“Yeah, they do.” Minho nodded while looking at his feet and kicking at some pebbles on the ground.

“Maybe we can start over too?” Jisung ventured. He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the suggestion, but he hoped the context of the hike was a good enough excuse to mask it.

Minho met his eyes again and gave a small smile. “I would like that.”

“Friends?” Jisung extended his right hand.

Minho grasped his hand and said, “I would like that very much.”

His smile then grew so big and turned so bright, Jisung thought maybe the sun might be emanating from him instead of the sky. Or maybe it was the warmth coursing inside of him at this small bit of contact. He couldn't help but mirror a smile back.

They dropped hands and Minho nodded towards Jisung’s companions who had stayed where he’d left them, still watching from a few meters away. “Would you introduce me?”

“Yes, of course.” They walked back over to his aunt and uncle and Jisung made the introductions. Minho smiled readily and easily, shook hands, bowed deeply again. Minho and Uncle Yoon quickly got into a discussion about all the places they’ve visited so far and how wonderful Gangwon-do is. 

“And if you ever want an off-roading vehicle or a boat to go out on the river, I’d be happy to let you borrow mine.” 

Jisung raised his eyebrows at this suggestion and Aunt Sooja looked at him questioningly, as if to ask — was this really the man he’d complained about so much, the one who was far too proud to be associated with the lowly Han family? Jisung was wondering the same thing, but he gave a small nod anyway.

Since when was Lee Minho so generous to complete strangers? Since when did he smile like that? 

“That would be wonderful! But we couldn’t possibly intrude,” Uncle Yoon replied.

Minho shook his head. “It’s nothing, I don’t mind at all. I’d be happy to take you for an outing myself, anytime you’re free.“

“Oh, jagi, I would absolutely love it if we could,” Aunt Sooja piped up as she put a hand around her husband’s arm. She turned to Minho and said, “I haven’t been out on the river here in so long.”

“You know the area?” Minho asked.

“Yes, I grew up in Munsu-ri,” she replied.

”I went into the village all the time when I was a kid. I still do, I guess.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.” Aunt Sooja smiled. “The Lee family is very well known around here.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Minho said with a chuckle. “If you’re interested in joining us, we’re having a bit of a party at the hanok tonight. A welcome home dinner for my brother, Changbin. He was discharged from the military yesterday.” Minho then addressed Jisung specifically. “I would be honored if I could introduce him to you. He’s eager to meet you. Lixie and Hyunjin are coming in from Seoul too.”

“Oh, wow, ye-yeah,” Jisung stuttered. “I mean, I’d love to meet Changbin. But, are you sure?”

“If it’s not too much to ask.” Minho looked at Aunt Sooja and Uncle Yoon again to reiterate that the invitation included them. “Please join us, if you are able to. We definitely have more than enough food and drink to share and any one of Jisung’s friends or family will always be welcome at Ganghwa.”

Jisung was rendered entirely speechless at this turn of events. It wasn’t that long ago that Minho expressed deep embarrassment over Jisung’s family and now they were being invited into his home? Granted, Uncle Yoon and Aunt Sooja were never and would never be as embarrassing as his father was, but Minho didn’t know that.

Aunt Sooja spoke on their behalf, “Yes, if Jisung would like to, of course, we’d be honored.” Jisung could only nod his approval.

“Good,” Minho said with a smile that shone brightly in his eyes as well. “It’s very casual, so don’t worry about dressing up or anything.” He made eye contact with all three of them while grinning and lingered a few seconds longer with Jisung. “I’ll see you later then, and I’ll text you the details.” He gave another deep bow and instead of continuing to the falls as he had before, ran down the path towards the river, presumably back towards home.

Jisung felt hypnotized as he stared at Minho’s figure that got smaller and smaller the further he went. His aunt and uncle shared an amused look, then Aunt Sooja asked, “Is this really the same cold, grumpy person you complained about at Seollal? He seems very open and friendly.”

Jisung snapped back to reality, even though it didn’t much feel like reality. “I don’t know what to tell you, I’m just as surprised as you are. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile this much,” he observed. 

When he had offered to start over, to give a chance at friendship, he wasn’t expecting Minho to do much of anything. And now all this? Smiles and charm and offers of hospitality? It was so strange. 

But also…kind of nice.

During their entire picnic lunch by the water, Uncle Yoon and Aunt Sooja had many more compliments to give Minho about being so ‘polite and unassuming’ and how right Mr Chae seemed to be in his description of him. Jisung hardly participated in the conversation, except to confirm the sincerity of the dinner invitation, and that Minho was not the sort of person who would offer something without the intention of following through. 

Jisung felt thoroughly distracted in longing to know what Minho was thinking of at that moment. 

Was Minho thinking of him? In what way might he be thinking of him? And in spite of everything, did he still have feelings for him? There was a nagging voice in the back of his head that was saying, It’s for you, he’s so different because he wants to prove himself to you. But that was nonsense. Maybe they could be friends, they said they would start over, but there’s no way that Minho still loved him. Not after what happened in Jeju. 

Why did he care so much about any of that anyway? And why was Changbin eager to meet him? Had Minho talked about him to his brother?

And Jisung definitely wasn’t freaking out about the way he had stared at Minho’s body like some sort of base creature who had no self-restraint. Not freaking out at all. The two of them simply hadn’t seen each other in a while. He was more…generally caught off guard because their meeting was so unexpected. Jisung just forgot how much more stunning he is in person than in a photograph. 

That’s all.

· :·᯽·: ·

After Jisung unpacked every article of clothing from his suitcase and scattered the clothes all around the tiny bedroom that he occupied at their pension rental, then paced the length of the room multiple times – Aunt Sooja took pity on her nephew and casually hinted that she might go shopping that afternoon. Jisung was incredibly grateful for the suggestion. Trying to put together a decent casual outfit, but still something that was good enough for Ganghwa, was an absolute nightmare. With how many outdoor activities that he knew his aunt and uncle had planned for their trip, he had mostly brought athletic wear. Everything else remotely appropriate needed a washing and he didn’t have enough time for that. After three shops at a mall in Chuncheon, many outfit changes, and even more compliments from his aunt, he bought a handful of new items. The evening’s look would be a white deep v-neck t-shirt he already had, a new pair of dark wash jeans that was relaxed but still made his ass look great, and a loose red cable knit cardigan for when the sun went down.

Minho and Jisung had texted back and forth little bits of information about the dinner all afternoon, like time, location, etc. He included a map of the Ganghwa House grounds that showed directions to the hanok from the main house. Each text message notification heightened his anxiety and he questioned his judgment as to whether or not attending was a good idea at all. But Uncle Yoon and Aunt Sooja seemed to be looking forward to it, so he did his best to not overhype his anticipation of…of what? He hardly knew.

It was nearing sunset when they arrived at Ganghwa and they were met by a staff member at the large stone gates. The man checked their names off the clipboard list he held and handed Uncle Yoon a piece of paper with the same map that Minho had sent to him earlier. The driveway that led to the hanok curved through a forested area around the backside of the larger house, crossed over a small bridge, and went up a short incline to the base of the foothills. 

They eventually saw a traditional style stone wall and the tiled peaks of the hanok’s roof that appeared through a break in the trees and they were directed by another staff member to pull all the way forward into the circular driveway. There were only a few other cars already there. Jisung hoped they were not being horribly rude and had arrived too early. He had let Minho know when they were on their way, so it shouldn’t have surprised him so much that  their host was waiting for them at the front gate, smiling and waving with both hands. 

Noticing Minho’s genuine excitement, his perfect smile enhancing his already beautiful face, melted away so many of the worries that Jisung had built up over the day. His shoulders relaxed some as they approached each other. Minho bowed just as deeply as he had earlier. 

“I’m so glad you decided to come!” their host said. 

At Uncle Yoon’s prompting, Jisung handed over one of the bottles of makgeolli they had purchased earlier that week.

“A housewarming gift,” Uncle Yoon said at Minho’s obvious surprise at the gesture. 

“This is so unnecessary, but thank you,” Minho said. “We’ll have to open it together tonight. Please, come inside, I’d love to show you around.” He quickly turned and led them towards the open wooden gate. 

On the other side of the stone wall, they discovered a beautiful traditional garden with mosaic stonework pathways and many varieties of greenery, short and tall, in front of a ㅌ shaped, red pine, two-story hanok with black-gray tiled roofs and cream colored insulated walls. The second story was only over the top left ㄴ section of the house and seemed to be partially built into the hillside as if to accommodate the landscape more than the house’s occupants. Further off to the left of the house, the garden continued on with more trees and a small pond, which they could only see a portion of from the front of the house.

”This is such a beautiful building,” Aunt Sooja said reverently.

“Thank you. My halmeoni preferred living here rather than in the main house and she made me fall in love with it too. I spent most of my childhood running back and forth between the two,” Minho said. “After she died, I made sure that we kept up with the maintenance so it stayed in good condition. About a decade ago, there was a hanok in the village that was going to be torn down to make room for expanding the school, so instead of demolitioning it, I bought the timber, had it dismantled, and we used that to make the second story.”

It was actually kind of remarkable the way that the first and second story were mismatched and yet perfectly complimentary at the same time. Jisung’s mind was likening it to a small Howl’s Castle, just much more Korean and much less steampunk or mobile. Maybe solarpunk, with Minho’s love of solar panels for Munsu-ri, perhaps was included here.

“Follow me inside for a moment,” Minho said and led them towards the left side of the hanok, sweeping past several rectangular tables, inset with grills, set up in the courtyard. Jisung suspected a variety of meats would be the main menu for the evening.

They went up a couple steps, exchanged their shoes for slippers, and stepped inside an open space that housed some exercise equipment. The room also had a garment rack with hangers where Minho instructed them that they could leave their coats there if they wished. He then beckoned them down a hallway and through a pair of sliding doors into a living room. There was a fluffy-cushioned, low-profile sofa and a few simple pieces of furniture adorning the space. 

“The best view of the river in the whole house is here, from Halmeoni's old room,” Minho explained. “She had such good taste in decorating that I kept a lot of her old things and made this a living room. There’s a bathroom through that door that you are welcome to, but also feel free to look around.”

Uncle Yoon and Jisung immediately went to admire the aforementioned view of the river from the windows on the opposite side of the room. Minho followed them there and he and Uncle Yoon started up a discussion of the fishing prospects in the area.

“Jisung, come look at this,” Aunt Sooja called to him. 

Jisung joined her next to a record player sitting on top of a console table against the wall, where she was looking through a stack of vinyls. She held up a record with a sparkle of mischief in her eye. When Jisung registered exactly what she was holding, they both howled with laughter. Uncle Yoon and Minho looked over at them.

“What’s so funny?” Uncle Yoon asked, while both he and Minho came over to see for themselves. Minho stood next to Jisung and he felt very conscious of the close proximity. Aunt Sooja showed them both the vinyl and Uncle Yoon joined in their giggles.

“Did I miss something?” Minho asked.

”This is my pabo little brother!” Aunt Sooja exclaimed.

”My dad,” Jisung added to clarify.

”Han Sungjin is your father??” Minho asked incredulously. Jisung nodded.

Minho looked stunned. ”My grandmother played his vinyls on repeat when I was growing up, she loved him.”

”Really?” Aunt Sooja smiled.

“I didn’t even recognize him when he sang at your birthday,” Minho mumbled. “I was wrong. I should absolutely be inviting him to fundraiser galas. To sing. The older crowd would love him.”

Jisung felt a surge of vindication at this admission and he playfully punched Minho in the arm. “And what did I tell you?”

“If I hadn't been such a chaebol bastard and had my head up my ass, I might actually see the people around me.”

“Jisung!!” Aunt Sooja exclaimed. “That foul mouth of yours, you said that to him? How dare you!” Jisung flushed from his aunt’s censure. “Lee Minho-ssi, I am so sor—“ 

Minho put a hand up to stop her from continuing. “Please, don’t apologize. I deserved it.” 

Jisung felt entirely taken aback. He was actually owning up to his arrogance.took responsibility for  

”It’s true, he is a chaebol bastard,” a voice said from the doorway, just as Aunt Sooja was about to open her mouth again. 

Its owner swaggered in from the hall, a young man with a compact but rather muscular build and a sharp lean jawline. His black t-shirt seemed to fit him well, but was a bit more than snug over the shape of his massive biceps. 

“But I didn’t teach you to address me that way, did I?” Minho questioned him sharply. 

“I apologize, Hyung-nim,” the young man deadpanned, but gave a very low bow nonetheless when he stood in front of Minho.

“This is my brother, Changbin,” Minho said with a smile, ruffling his hair while he was still bent. Changbin shook hands first with Uncle Yoon and Aunt Sooja, and his eyes positively lit up when he heard Jisung’s name. At that moment, a staff member beckoned Minho away with questions about the dinner before he was able to participate any further in the conversation. 

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Jisung said as he and Changbin also shook hands and bowed.

“Nice to meet you too,” Changbin said. “Minho has told me so much about you.”

“Good things I hope?” Jisung grimaced a little ruefully. 

“Only the best,” Changbin assured him.

“I’ve heard so much about your music talent though,” Jisung said. “How you’re a genius producer.”

Changbin laughed. “Really?” 

“Your uncle raved about you,” Jisung said, to which Changbin rolled his eyes. “Lixie and Hyunjin too.”

“Yeah? Hyunjin did?” Changbin blushed. ”That’s…good to know. Minho-hyung’s said you’re also quite talented.”

“Eh, I'm really not. I’m sure it’s an exaggeration.”

“Not possible. My brother rarely exaggerates compliments. He said your singing is so top tier that if you weren’t already committed to painting that he’d try to recruit you for JYP. If he thought you’d actually say yes.” 

“I believe it,” Uncle Yoon said. “Our Jisungie always underrates his own skills.” Aunt Sooja nodded in agreement. Jisung didn’t know what to say and merely waved his hand around to dismiss the compliment.

Changbin looked between the three of them and shook his head in disbelief. ”Did my stuffy old hyung really drag you all in here to show off the house before even offering you drinks? Does he even know he’s hosting this party? Come on, follow me.”

They wandered back down the hall to where they left their shoes and returned to the courtyard where more people had arrived and were milling about the open space, talking and laughing. 

One of the tables in the courtyard acted as a serve-yourself bar. Jisung and Aunt Sooja opened beers for themselves and Uncle Yoon poured a couple fingers worth of Japanese whisky, from a label he had been wanting to try but hadn’t acquired yet. He seemed very impressed that Minho had two bottles of it ready for his guests.

“Changbin-ah!” Someone called out from across the courtyard. A tall, lean young man with shaggy shoulder length hair and a young woman with doe eyes and cheerful round cheeks were waving enthusiastically at him. 

“Ah, Chaeryeong and Jooyeon just got here,” Changbin said with a fond smile. “Please excuse me, it’s been too long since I’ve seen them. You’re welcome to sit anywhere you like at the tables.”

They assured him with warm smiles that they would be alright finding a place to sit on their own. Changbin ran off and immediately picked Chaeryeong up into a hug and swung her around so her legs left the ground, even with their similar heights.

When Jisung and his aunt and uncle went to find a table, they were surprised to see a familiar face already seated at the one closest to them. 

“Hello Mr Chae, we didn’t expect to see you here!” Uncle Yoon exclaimed when they approached. Jisung had to hold his tongue with how betrayed he felt by Mr Chae’s false information that the Lee brothers weren’t going to be here for another week. Even so, running into Minho already turned out better than he expected, so he couldn’t really stay mad about it.

”And yet, here we are together!” Mr Chae smiled warmly. “Imagine my surprise when Minho’s driver, Mr Roh, showed up in front of my ramyeon shop today and said he was there to pick me up for dinner. I could’ve sworn that Changbin wasn’t coming home yet; my memory isn’t as good as it used to be.”

Jisung felt an amused smile spread across his face. Based on the level of detail that Mr Chae was able to recall in order to tell stories about his life, his memory seemed to be just fine. But forgetfulness about present day details, instead of the past, was something that Mr Chae had in common with Jisung’s own halmeoni.

After another half hour of Mr Chae’s impressively detailed stories, Jisung took advantage of a lull in the conversation to offer Mr Chae a refill while he was getting his own. Uncle Yoon and Aunt Sooja waved him off good-naturedly, already leaning in again, clearly prepared to keep listening as long as Mr Chae was willing to talk.

Just as Jisung finished pouring a glass of wine for Mr Chae and opening a seltzer for himself, another very familiar dinner guest stepped up behind him.

“Hi, Jisung.”

He left the drinks on the table and turned to greet the woman he’d been expecting, and yet nervous anticipation tightened his chest as he finally faced her. The Felicity Lee he knew from six months ago did not have long pink hair, nor did he know her to look like anxiety incarnate who might burst into tears at any moment. But the woman standing just a couple meters away was, in fact, both of those things. The ghost was still alive after all.

“Hi, Lixie,” he replied softly. 

“How are you? How’s…your family?” Lixie asked. Jisung could hear in her tone that she didn’t really mean his ‘family,’ she meant Chan.

“We’re all doing fine,” Jisung said with a wistful smile.

Lixie nodded. “That’s good.”

Jisung couldn’t take the pitiful sight anymore and he beckoned her into his open arms. Lixie rushed to him and hugged him so tightly, he wondered if he might bruise.

“I’m sorry. I was so stupid,” Lixie cried into his shoulder.

”You weren’t stupid, you had bad information.”

”But I believed it, instead of talking to Chan and I’m scared that I fucked everything up. I wish I–I’m just so, sooo sorry.”

Jisung patted the back of her head gently as he held her. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

“I know, I know I need to…it’s so much. And it’s been months and…I’m so ashamed.”

”It's understandable if you are scared. Do you think it’s worth trying?”

“Y-yes, he’s definitely worth it, I just wish I had done everything differently.” Lixie sniffed her tears back. 

“You can always just tell him that,” Jisung said.

Lixie pulled back from the hug and bit her lower lip in consideration. “Are we okay?” 

“How about I forgive you now and we’ll figure out how to be okay as we go?” Jisung looked her in the eye sincerely.

“I don’t deserve it.”

“I’m certain you do. You’re my birthday twin after all.”

“Thank you, I’m sorry!” Before Jisung could argue with her further, Lixie threw herself into his arms again. Jisung felt someone approach at his elbow and he twisted slightly to look.

“I don’t know what’s going on here,” Changbin said, staring between the two, then pointing a finger in Lixie’s face. “Or what the fuck you did to be apologizing like this. But no one’s allowed to cry at my party unless they’ve gotten very, very, very drunk first. We’re going to have fun times only tonight.”

“Hold on.” Lixie stepped out of Jisung’s arms and brushed away the tears from her cheeks. She stood agape at the newly discharged soldier. “Changbin? How is this you? What happened to your arms??”

Changbin flexed a bicep with a proud grin on his face and Lixie couldn’t seem to help herself when she reached out to feel it. “The military taught me some good workouts.” He put his arm down and a mischievous glint shone from his eyes. “Where’s your cousin?”

“I left him talking to Minho.” She pointed towards the gateway entry. “There.”

Changbin turned and when he spotted Hyunjin, yelled excitedly, “YA HYUNG!!!” then dashed off to greet him. 

Jisung put a hand against his ear with a moan and a pained expression. “Oh my god, I think he just killed my hearing on this side. I really thought he was gonna be a shy little thing, based on what I’d heard, and I have yet to witness it.”

“Changbin?” Lixie chuckled. “He’s always been that loud.”

“Someone I used to know described him as quiet, a loner, even.” He could just add it to the list of things that Eunji lied about.

“He’s hardly a loner.” Lixie thought for a moment. “I think I’ve only ever seen Changbin get quiet around Hyunjin. But he's had that crush for as long as I can remember.”

“A crush on Hyunjin? Really?” Jisung asked with interest.

”Not that the idiot’s ever noticed.”

The height difference between Changbin’s short stature and Hyunjin’s taller one was a little comical, but also kind of cute, not that Jisung thought Hyunjin was cute. He was having a similar reaction to Changbin’s arm flexing as his cousin. But instead, he was focused on his chest and caressed the front of it, clearly cooing compliments at him while he did. When Changbin put his arm down, he pointed at his cheek, requesting a kiss. But Hyunjin just smirked and pressed a couple fingers to his face instead.

“Looks like he decided to stop being shy,” Jisung said, then glanced at Lixie who was grimacing and crossing her arms defensively.

”You okay?”

Lixie sighed and looked at Jisung for a prolonged moment, seeming to decide what to say. “Hyunjin and I are not exactly on speaking terms right now.”

”Ah…”

”I hate it when men think they know what’s good for me, thinking they know better than me.” Lixie almost growled when she said it. “Minho at least apologized. Hyunjin got defensive.”

“Hey,” Jisung said with a friendly tap on her arm. “We don’t have to think about that right now. Come join my table, I still have to deliver this drink, and you can meet my aunt and uncle.”

Lixie’s face lit up at the prospect. “I would love that.”

When they sat at the table, Lixie said hello to Mr Chae first, who she already seemed to know, and he held onto her hands with a joyful smile like he was greeting another one of his grandkids. Jisung then introduced her to Uncle Yoon and Aunt Sooja. The two of them were just as excited and intrigued to meet her as they had been about meeting Minho. Both of whom they had heard so much about from nearly every member of the Bang-Han family.

It wasn’t long after that a handful of servers came to the tables to light the grills and deliver platters of meats and vegetables, along with bowls of rice and banchan. Uncle Yoon took control of monitoring the grill. Lixie was in much higher spirits as the dinner went on. Uncle Yoon and Aunt Sooja were so delighted by her that they would often stack the best cuts of meat on her plate.

Even when they weren’t speaking directly to each other, Lixie frequently looked in Jisung's direction. He felt as though she were studying his face and mannerisms with a hope of glimpsing similarities between him and Chan. He also felt like he was being studied from another direction entirely and when Jisung finally looked that way, he caught Minho’s eye from only one table away, sitting with Changbin, Chaeryeong, Jooyeon, Hyunjin, and Mr Hurst. When it happened a second, and then a third time, Jisung held his gaze for much longer than what was socially appropriate, but still looked away first. It made his heart flutter a little and he wasn’t entirely certain what to do with that feeling.

Moments later, Minho appeared at their table, along with Changbin, offering to do a toast with the makgeolli they had gifted him. They both sat down at the table, Changbin next to Jisung and Minho next to Lixie. Changbin took charge of pouring it into cups for everyone and distributing the rice wine. Minho gave his toast while looking exclusively at Jisung. “Here’s to all the happy accidents that make every day better.”

“Jjan!” everyone cheered.

Jisung turned away to drink, not only out of respect, but also to give himself a moment to wonder…what exactly had Minho meant with that toast? 

The two of them didn’t stay long, as they still had more food to consume at their original table and other guests to talk to, but they left the makgeolli bottle behind to drink as much as they chose.

Jisung casually asked Lixie, “I'm just curious, you’ve known them for a while, what are Changbin and Minho like as brothers? Are they rivals? Is Minho overly protective?”

“Minho sort of raised him,” Lixie mused. “Their parents passed away so early, so he took on a lot of responsibilities for them both. Minho is protective, but he also gave Changbin space to be what he wanted to be, and he turned into someone big and bold, but also really kind. Now that they’re older, Changbin tries to get Minho to loosen up a bit, to be less of an adult. It’s cute actually.”

When Jisung’s social battery started to run low, he excused himself to the bathroom and then explored a bit of the garden on the other side of the hanok away from the party. He didn’t go far however, the hanok blocked all the light from the courtyard and the waxing crescent moon overhead barely illuminated anything. He didn’t want to accidentally fall into the pond that he knew was only meters away. Perhaps he would just have to come back during the day to see it properly. It felt a little strange, realizing how badly he wanted to see more of Ganghwa. 

On his way back, he encountered a stairwell that led to a balcony on the second story and, unable to deny his curiosity, he climbed up. It was dark and cozy, with a couple of cushioned patio-style chairs and a small round side table. He sat himself down and settled with a contented sigh. 

Scanning the people below, his eyes naturally drifted to Minho. He was standing off to the side on a grassy patch of landscape in the courtyard, smiling widely while listening to Lixie and Changbin argue animatedly over something probably inconsequential. Changbin put his hand on his hip and cocked his head at Lixie. Whatever he said made both him and Lixie whip their heads toward Minho for his reaction.

Minho stared daggers at Changbin, licked his lips, and crossed his arms. He suddenly leapt forward and pulled Changbin into a headlock. While the two of them wrestled, Minho’s expression shifted to an oh shit, I fucked up moment of realization that his little brother wasn’t so little anymore, right as Changbin fully flipped his hyung over his shoulder and onto the soft grass. Minho landed on his back and his hands flew to the back of his head, his knees curling toward his chest. Jisung stood in alarm and leaned into the railing. 

He needed Chan, Chan’s a doctor, he could help, but…Chan was in Busan.

Changbin and Lixie both got on their knees, reaching towards Minho to check for injuries. But the ruse was revealed by Minho quickly sitting up out of their reach, turning to deliver a massive smack to Changbin’s backside with the flat of his palm, and continuing his trajectory into a standing position. Minho haughtily lorded over him while Changbin was still clinging to his own ass, then casually gave his dongsaeng a little push with the ball of his foot. He face-planted into the grass, rolled to the side, and started giggling with the most high pitched cartoonish laugh Jisung had ever heard, even from ten meters away. 

Lixie joined in the laughter and Jisung couldn’t help but break into a smile as well. Minho reached forward and offered a hand to help Changbin to his feet and he popped up like nothing ever happened, although the grass stains on his jeans said otherwise. 

Changbin grabbed Minho’s elbow and steered him towards the bar. Jisung continued watching from the balcony while leaning his shoulder against the wood pillar supporting the corner of the overhanging roof. He had mostly witnessed a grumpy CEO, a snarky debater, and a rejected lover. He had no idea that Minho had this side to him. The playfulness was…attractive. And Jisung was dying to know what Changbin had said that’d brought it all on. 

Minho looked up and his eyes instantly found Jisung, who felt his cheeks flush at having been caught staring. He was determined to not look away this time. Minho lifted his hand in a small wave and Jisung raised his hand in return. Minho mouthed ‘stay there’ at him, then pulled out his phone and pointed at it. A moment later, Jisung got a text:

PDnim Lee Minho (9:23pm)

What do you want to drink? I’ll bring you something

Artist Han Jisung (9:23pm)

Surprise me

PDnim Lee Minho (9:24pm)

Sweet? Dry? Sour?

Artist Han Jisung (9:24pm)

Sweet

PDnim Lee Minho (9:24pm)

Coming right up

Jisung sat back down and tried not to fidget too much. Minho arrived on the balcony with two of the same cocktail in hand. 

“I thought maybe you’d like a spritz with our homemade plum liqueur,” Minho said as he handed the glass to Jisung, then flipped a light switch on the wall that lit a sconce in the balcony rafters and illuminated the space.

“Homemade?”

”We have quite a few different kinds of fruit trees on the property and one of the village aunties makes jams, syrups, liqueurs, lots of things. We give her the fruits and we get a few jars and bottles back. I think she sells the rest.”

Jisung took a sip and hummed an enthusiastic approval, relaxing back in his chair. Minho was still standing stiffly next to him.

“Is it okay if I join you for a bit? We’re friends now, right?” Minho asked.

“Oh sure, yes, that’s alright,” Jisung replied with a huff of a laugh. “But it’s your home, you can do what you want.” He gestured to the empty chair next to him and Minho took the seat. 

Jisung felt thrown back to that day in Jeju when Minho had very awkwardly and silently visited him at the bungalow. How Seungmin had claimed that the best explanation for his strange behavior was that Minho must be in love with Jisung. How strange it was to Jisung that Seungmin had been right.

But was he still in love with him? Maybe it was best not to dwell on it for the moment.

“You know, I was thinking,” Jisung said, breaking the quiet moment between them. “My dad is a good singer, but you still might be right about the galas. He is a bit cringe.”

“Cringe family members is unfortunately something I am very familiar with.” Thinking he meant Changbin, Jisung looked at him quizzically, Minho continued by singing softly, “Sweet dreams are made of this…”

Jisung burst into giggles. While they were on Jeju, Seungmin had shown him the video of JYP’s infamous performance and the horror was still fresh in his memory. 

When Jisung’s laughter settled with a contented sigh, Minho asked. “Are you having a good time?” 

”Yeah, I am. Thank you for inviting us, the food was amazing, I ate so much.”

”Of course, I’m really glad you came,” Minho said with a soft smile.

”Are you having a good time?” 

Minho nodded.

”You seem like it,” Jisung noted. “You seem different here, I guess.”

”Here, as in this chair, or…?” Minho teased.

“Just in general,” Jisung said lightly. “Based on, uh, previous experiences, I thought you hated parties, but you’re hosting so well.”

Minho grunted. ”I delegate well.”

Jisung narrowed his eyes at him. “I’m trying to pay you a compliment and you’re deflecting. It’s really ruining your new image that you’re capable of being happy.”

Minho side-eyed him. ”Fine, I’ll concede. Though with all of my favorite people gathered in one place, I have every reason to be happy.”

Jisung wondered if he was included in that category of favorite people. “Well, it makes you very chill,” he said instead of voicing the thought. “And the chill version of Lee Minho seems like a pretty nice guy.”

Minho looked at him for a beat, then nodded.

“But…” Jisung began.

“What?”

“I have something I’ve been wanting to ask you.” 

“Oh?”

Jisung took a deep breath. Maybe the alcohol was helping him be brave in this moment, but he needed an answer. “Why did you call me ‘the help’?”

“What? When did I do that?” Minho sat forward in his seat and looked genuinely concerned.

“The Busan Grand Opening Party. I overheard you talking to Lixie.” Jisung waited, but Minho didn’t seem to recall. “You said it was ‘beneath’ you to be ‘hitting on the help.’”

“Ah.” Minho closed his eyes and sighed a little. “I remember now. I regret using that phrase, but the sentiment remains.”

Jisung scoffed and opened his mouth, ready to argue. But seeing this, Minho cut off his rising indignation before it gained any momentum. “What I mean is, I don’t mix business and pleasure. I’ve witnessed how destructive it can be, when there is that power imbalance. And even though you were not explicitly an employee of JYP Pictures, I still had a position of authority over you.”

Jisung felt a little taken aback at this nuance.

“I’ve realized recently,” Minho continued, “that I was very wrapped up in maintaining a professional distance that I might have come across as…cold. To you. Did I?”

“Yeah, a little,” Jisung murmured. 

Minho hummed an acknowledgement. “Back then, even if I had known you’d heard me, I probably would have thought it was also beneath me to admit to you I was wrong. But at least I can do so now.” Minho looked him in the eye and didn’t waver in his sincerity. “I’m sorry for calling you that. Working in the service industry does not make you a servant, and I should never have used it as an insult to begin with.”

“Thank you.” Jisung really didn’t know what else to say to all of this, he just knew that there was a knot in his chest that felt like it was unraveling. This one core offensive belief about Lee Minho was finally…undone. Starting over suddenly felt like a real possibility and not just a handshake promise.

”I should be thanking you,” Minho said.

”For what?”

“Lixie calls me out on my bullshit maybe only once a year, and she did that night, about what I said.” After a pause, Minho looked intently at Jisung and said, “I like that you do too.”

“Call you on your bullshit?” Jisung chuckled.

“Now, and also…before.” Minho took a deep breath. “You’ve given me a lot to think about in the last several weeks.”

They both seemed to be letting these revelations sink in. Jisung was afraid that the silence that now enveloped them would turn awkward, but it never did. It felt more like a soft protective bubble, where they just existed together. The kind of silence that eased loneliness despite the inherent solitude of one’s own mind.

It was eventually broken by another shriek of laughter from Changbin down below, then commentating on the party, sharing smiles over dumb jokes, and evolving into teasing one another. Somehow, their conversation slipped into effortlessness. It startled Jisung at first, when he realized how much he was smiling and how nice it felt now that his vigilance towards Minho’s reactions or his own had vanished. It made Jisung wonder if it could have always been like this. 

Time went by and Jisung sank further sideways into his chair, leaning the side of his head against the backrest, hypnotized by the sound of Minho’s voice blurring into a pleasant hum. He felt dimly aware of the details of the story he was telling, but far more aware of how unfairly pretty Minho was just sitting there, existing in the faint glow of light next to them. Without meaning to, Jisung yawned wide.

“I’m not boring you, am I?” Minho teased.

Jisung straightened himself. “No, no! I’m just tired, we were up early today and you’re just kind of mesmerizing…I mean, I didn’t mean it like that, your face is distracting…Aisshi, you know, I’m just gonna shut up.” He reached for his glass on the side table and drank what remained in his cup rather quickly.

Minho studied him for a moment, trying to hide a smile, then checked his watch. “Should we find your aunt and uncle?” Jisung didn’t want to give in to his sleepiness, but he nodded in agreement. He felt extremely grateful that Minho didn’t comment on whatever that was that just slipped out of his mouth. Jisung followed him down the stairs from the balcony. 

“You’ve been very kind to me and my aunt and uncle today,” Jisung said, with a bit more composure, as they walked unhurriedly back to the courtyard. “Not sure that I’ve earned it, but thank you.” 

“You deserve everything,” Minho said with the utmost sincerity. “My only hope has been that you might be able to forgive me.”

“Forgive you? You already have been, weeks ago. Minho, I–”

“Jisung-ah, where have you been?” his aunt cried when she saw them. They were chatting with Lixie, but already had their coats on and looked ready to leave.

Jisung pulled out his phone and finally saw her missed calls. ”Oh, I…sorry, Eeemo.” 

”It’s my fault for keeping him from you,” Minho said. "We were having such a good time and I didn’t feel like giving him back.” Jisung noticed Lixie was looking at them both a bit strangely.

Uncle Yoon smiled warmly. “No, it’s fine, Jisung should be with people his own age, instead of us old folks with early bedtimes.”

”Samchon, you’re not that old…” Jisung rolled his eyes.

“You’re welcome back to Ganghwa anytime,” Minho said with a warm smile. “You all are. And Yoon-ssi, I hope you’ll keep your promise to come fishing with me.” 

Jisung hugged Lixie goodbye and waved to Changbin and his friends from a distance. Their host continued to escort them through the courtyard and to their car, with the Hans giving many expressions of gratitude for the evening.

As they drove away and into the night, Jisung’s attention gravitated back towards Ganghwa and he turned around in his seat, fixated solely on Minho’s silhouette fading from view. 

· :·᯽·: ·

Uncle Yoon had already left for his river fishing excursion by the time Jisung woke the next day. He and Aunt Sooja enjoyed a lazy morning together sitting on their patio and bathing in the sun that drifted in and out of the trees. Aunt Sooja took out her journal and wrote and wrote as she had done every day of their trip. She told Jisung that she often described their various activities, but also wove in some stream of consciousness writing that alleviated her mind. Jisung thought she probably used her journal like he tended to use his sketchbook. 

And use his sketchbook that morning, he did. Little depictions of things around him that caught his eye. The unique shape of the handmade coffee cup Aunt Sooja was drinking from or the squirrel who visited them hoping for some breakfast crumbs. But then he began rough sketching a structure, a rustic beauty nestled against a hillside only eight kilometers from where he sat. He drew two figures sitting on a balcony on one side of the hanok. Jisung imagined the canvas as he went, the way he might mix yellow ochre with raw sienna for the exact shade of the red pine wooden beams, or ultramine with phthalo green for the sunset shadows of the trees near the pond. How he might use a loose expressionistic style to make it dream-like, with clearer sharper lines for the figures on the balcony to pull the viewer’s focus there.

Uncle Yoon returned in the early afternoon with a small cooler full of fish, he couldn’t stop talking about how wonderful Minho was. How he had packed them breakfast, coffee, and snacks; brought all of the supplies; and let Uncle Yoon take the lead on reeling in as many fish as he pleased. 

“Jisung, have you had his cooking yet?” Uncle Yoon continued. “It was so flavorful, I felt like I was eating at a restaurant and not in a folding chair by the river.”

“Minho can cook?” Jisung asked. Oh, that was dangerous information. Jisung was the living embodiment that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. He had always assumed that Minho had never lowered himself to doing domestic activities. 

Jisung felt caught between marveling at Uncle Yoon’s praise of Minho and wishing he could have seen it all for himself. He wondered if the two of them had talked about him at all while sitting at the water’s edge. His aunt and uncle chattered on and he found his eyes drifting, almost unconsciously, toward the doorway, half-expecting Minho to appear at any moment. 

But of course, he never did. It’s not like he was going to see him again anytime soon. It was silly to expect anything more than the polite dinner invitation yesterday.

When Jisung got up to refill his coffee, Uncle Yoon called to him, “Oh, Jisung, Changbin and Minho wanted to invite you to do noraebang at the hanok tonight. He said he would text you about it.” Then he gave Jisung a horribly exaggerated wink. 

· :·᯽·: ·

Uncle Yoon and Aunt Sooja dropped Jisung off at Ganghwa Hanok, then turned around to drive back towards Chuncheon where they were planning to have dinner with some of Aunt Sooja’s friends.

Jisung could already hear music floating through the air and over the outer stone wall. Following his ears led him through the now-familiar courtyard to the living room with the gorgeous view of the river. The sliding doors were wide open on either side of the room that allowed the evening breeze to roll through. Hyunjin, Mr Hurst, Lixie, and Changbin’s friends, Chaeryeong and Jooyeon, had all found places either on the couch or the floor with lots of pillows. Colorful lights were bouncing all around the room. Jisung had a smile on his face as he leaned against the doorway and watched Changbin give a comedic rendition of ‘Heartbeat’ by 2PM by putting a heavy emphasis on each syllable of the Korean pronunciation of ‘heartbeat’ instead of singing the chorus accurately. He had his entire audience in stitches with the exaggerated dance moves he added in.

“Jisung!” Changbin yelled into his microphone when he saw the party’s newcomer. He abandoned the mic and immediately went to Jisung to drag him into the room. Lixie also stood to hug him.

“Minho left to get chicken, pizza, and beer, but he’ll be back soon,” Lixie said. “Come and pick a song!”

While Jisung scrolled through the list, Jooyeon got up and sang a song from, apparently, his own band, Xdinary Heroes, ‘Good Enough.’ Jisung was enthralled by it. Jooyeon’s voice and the style of the song both had exactly the type of yearning and melancholy that he always tried to capture in his paintings.

Minho returned while Jooyeon was singing, the room so absorbed that no one noticed him set the food down on the pyeongsang table nearby before easing onto the floor beside Jisung. They turned at the same time and caught each other’s eye, and for a suspended moment Jisung thought he glimpsed something like longing in Minho’s expression. Maybe he just imagined it.

Everyone clapped loudly when Jooyeon finished, Changbin even gave him a wolf whistle of approval. But as soon as the spell was broken, they all beelined for the food.

“It’s not as good as yours,” Minho whispered to Jisung, shoulder brushing against his as they filled their plates. “But Chuncheon can still make excellent chicken.”

The room went quiet, filled only with the sounds of chewing and compliments on the food. Hyunjin broke the silence first. “Jisung-ssi, how’s your little friend at the chicken shop doing? Miss Kim wasn’t it?”

Jisung was astonished, firstly, that Hyunjin was speaking to him at all, as they had completely ignored each other all of yesterday and today, and secondly, that he had mentioned Eunji in front of Minho and Changbin. Clearly, the man hadn’t an inkling of what the entire story actually was. 

Jisung glanced at Minho, who looked like he wanted to strangle Hyunjin, and Changbin was too focused on his plate to be bothered to wonder which Miss Kim they were even talking about. Hyunjin couldn’t feign ignorance if he mentioned anything beyond her surname, after all ‘Kim’ was the most common family name in Korea. That was definitely a calculated choice.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t spoken to her since she left Busan,” he replied with the most disinterested tone he could muster.

“That must be such a loss for your family, to have a hard working employee to leave you so suddenly,” Hyunjin said.

“We hired a new manager, which easily made up for her quitting.” When Jisung stole a second glance towards Minho, who was looking at him earnestly, perhaps even with gratitude. He almost felt sorry for Hyunjin. He did not seem to realize how much pain he was causing his friend in trying to upset Jisung.

No one else in the room seemed to be troubled by Hyunjin’s questions and he looked very disappointed that he didn’t get a larger reaction out of Jisung. 

After they finished their first round of eating, with plenty more still left on the table for seconds, Chaeryeong and Changbin sang a duet of ‘Love Me Like This’ with full choreography, and then Lixie convinced Jisung to take up the mic, choosing the very energetic ‘BANG BANG BANG.’

While Jisung performed, Hyunjin moved to sit next to Minho on the couch and whispered, "I’ve never seen anyone age so terribly in only a few months, like Han Jisung has. Slaving away in that fried chicken shop is not doing any favors for his complexion. He’s so brown! Mr Hurst and I agreed that we barely recognize him anymore."

“I don’t see any major difference in him except for being a bit more tanned. That’s pretty normal for going on vacation and spending a lot of time outside,” Minho said coolly.

“It doesn’t help make him look any better though,” Hyunjin continued. “I never thought he was very good-looking to begin with. His face is too round and his features are mediocre and his nose is far too small for his face. His teeth are tolerable I suppose, but he shows too much of his gums when he smiles, it’s gross. And those mud-colored eyes, which have sometimes been called pretty, I could never see anything very unique about them.” Hyunjin rejoiced internally at seeing Minho clench his jaw and look somewhat nettled.

"You allowed your opinion, even though it’s wrong," Minho replied. “But it's been a very long time since I have considered Han Jisung to be one of the most handsome, most talented, and most extraordinary men I’ve ever known."

And with that, Minho got up and went to refill his drink. Hyunjin was left to all the satisfaction of having forced him to say something that pained no one but himself. Although Hyunjin knew that Minho admired Jisung, maybe even liked him, this was not the best method of recommending himself in his stead, but angry people are not always wise. 

When Minho went to sit down again, he avoided his previous seat next to Hyunjin and went to his brother instead. Changbin had just taken over a cushy armchair with a second helping of pizza and his hyung sat directly on his lap, blocking his ability to actually eat his food. 

“Hyung, there’s lots of places to sit other than here,” Changbin groaned.

“No, there isn’t,” Minho replied simply.

“I think there are.”

“Nope, none. This is the best seat in the house.”

They continued to play musical chairs in the living room as they all took turns at the mic, though Minho was still avoiding participating. At one point, while Hyunjin was singing ‘GBAD’ by Jackson Wang, Lixie was sitting on the backrest of the couch behind Jisung, giving him the best shoulder massage he’d probably ever had in his life. Hyunjin ended the song, Lixie got up to choose a song, and Jisung lazily slumped back in his seat from relaxation and half landed on Minho’s chest. When he realized exactly where and who he was leaning against, he jolted back up, mumbling a quick, “Sorry,” in his direction. 

But a hand on his shoulder stopped him. “It’s okay, I don’t mind,” Minho mumbled back. 

Jisung leaned back again and Minho’s arm draped lazily on the cushion behind his shoulders. Jooyeon and Chaeryeong were on his other side, just as sandwiched together. The tight squeeze of four of them onto one couch had them all pressed against each other. Jisung tried to convince himself that he was not solely focused on every place that he and Minho were touching. If anyone had asked, he would have said his faraway look was just him being entranced by Lixie’s ballad. This kind of physical affection with friends was normal for him, but it was not normal for Jisung and Minho. Or maybe this was the start of their new normal?

“You two should do a duet!” Changbin suggested some time later, looking at Jisung and Lixie who were sharing pillows on the floor next to the couch.

”Sure.” “Let’s do it!” They said in unison. 

“You pick for us, I’m tired of looking,” Lixie said as they stood up to grab mics.

”Hmm, are you okay with English songs?” Changbin asked and they both agreed. But Changbin had a mischievous glint in his eye that Jisung didn’t trust, mostly because he was glancing at Minho when he asked it. 

The guitar strumming intro of ‘Die With a Smile’ blared through the speakers. Jisung looked to Changbin, Minho, and Lixie in succession. Changbin was watching his hyung’s reaction, Minho had put on his classic stoic mask, and Lixie was staring at the floor, the mic hanging by her side. 

The first verse was starting, so Jisung went with it despite the tension in the room.

The memory of the one and only time they had danced together at the Waiting for Death wrap party came rushing back to Jisung. He didn’t mean to sing the song directly to Minho, but the moment Jisung looked at him, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. Minho held his gaze and his stoic face softened with every line of the song until he was looking at Jisung in a way that made his cheeks warm and butterflies skitter around inside him.

The chorus ended and it was Lixie’s turn for the second verse. She warbled out the first few notes of “Ooohh I —“ and then stopped. She took a wet, shaky breath, her grip loosened on the microphone and it fell to the ground. She ran from the room and out into the garden, not bothering to stop and put on her shoes.

“What? Lixie! What’s wrong?” Changbin looked between Hyunjin and Minho for answers from his seat on the floor.

Minho stood. “I’ll go —“ 

“No, I will,” Hyunjin said. “It’s all my fault anyway.” He moved quickly before anyone could argue, but gathered up both his and Lixie’s shoes on his way. Mr Hurst was not too far behind. 

With his focus on Minho, Jisung hadn’t even noticed how Lixie was feeling. But of course, she felt awful. He’d forgotten that Chan and Lixie had danced to this song too.

Jisung took a step toward the controls to pause the song so they could choose something else, but then a sweet tenor voice filled the room. He looked up and saw that Executive Producer PDnim Lee Minho, the man who never participated at a noraebang, was singing Lixie’s abandoned microphone.

“So Imma love you every night like it’s the last night…”

Jisung’s shock lasted the one line, but he picked up the harmony and their voices melded together as if they were always meant to.

The remaining three audience members applauded half-heartedly when they finished the song as there was a bit of a somber feeling that had settled over the room.

“Is she okay?” Chaeryeong asked.

There was a pause during which no one seemed to know how to respond, until Changbin asked, “Hyung, what did he mean that it’s his fault?” 

Minho’s eyes didn’t leave Jisung, but the sadness that entered them hurt Jisung’s heart. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“I’m gonna go check on them,” Changbin said and he quickly left the room.

Jisung and Minho were still focused entirely on each other. Chaeryeong and Jooyeon, through a glance, made some kind of silent agreement and decided to clean up the empty food boxes and take them to the kitchen. They were left alone with the bouncing lights on the ceiling and the bright glow of the TV screen.

“Your voice is so…romantic,” Jisung half-whispered. 

Minho sputtered and looked away. Jisung saw his ears turning red and thought maybe he was trying to hide a smile. Was Minho…shy? 

A sudden thump noise rang through the room. Jisung swore and jumped where he stood.

“It’s probably the cats,” Minho said. “They hate being left out of all the fun, especially two nights in a row. Though they’d still just run and hide if they saw this many people. They’re better one-on-one.” 

”Oh, are they Hobak’s babies?” Jisung asked, his eyes lit up in excitement.

“How did you…?” Minho looked confused for a moment, then it seemed to dawn on him. 

”Mr Chae likes to talk about you. And cats. Can I meet them?”

“You want to?” Minho smiled. He seemed very pleased that Jisung was so interested. “Let’s head upstairs.”

He beckoned Jisung to follow him around the corner from the living room and up a staircase. As they went down the upstairs hall, Jisung heard a sad wailing noise coming from the other side of a pair of sliding doors. 

“Sounds like Doongie,” Minho muttered. He carefully slid open the door and knelt down to baby talk at whichever cat was directly behind the door. Minho picked up the orange tabby and stepped into the room, beckoning Jisung to follow. Minho shut the door behind them.

“They usually have free reign of the house,” Minho explained, “but when there’s guests, they stay here. I don’t want them to slip outside from a door accidentally getting left open.”

The cats all seemed very excited to see Minho with lots of chirps and mews and tails standing at attention. They clearly loved him. Jisung spent a few moments just trying to contain his feelings of cute aggression. That is until he realized that he was actually in a bedroom, and probably Minho’s bedroom. In fact, the doors on the other side of the room were probably the ones that led to the balcony where they had sat and talked together last night.

Minho introduced the two orange and white tabbies as Soongie and Doongie. “Hobak’s babies, as you said. And Dori here, was a rescue from Seoul.” The brown and white tabby rubbed his body against Minho’s shins. 

“Don’t just stand there, come say hi,” Minho demanded.

 ”…I don’t want to intrude.” 

”You’re not intruding.” Minho replied. He sat on the floor, leaning against the bed frame. The cats swirled around Minho, happily taking in as much affection as three of them could when there were only two hands available for pets. 

Jisung sat down crossed legged on the floor as well, but at least a couple meters away from them and just watched.

“Sitting all the way over there isn’t meeting them,” Minho cheerfully reprimanded him.

Jisung cocked his eyebrow at him and said, “And here I thought you knew cats.” Minho raised his own eyebrow back at him in challenge.

Jisung continued, “The fastest way to get a cat to love you is to ignore them. They can’t stand it.”

“That’s extremely manipulative of you. Are you saying that my babies have anxious attachment issues?” Minho teased.

However, Dori seemed to be proving the theory correct, because he trotted his way over in Jisung’s direction and sat himself directly in front of him. While Dori was staring at Jisung, and Jisung continued to hold Minho’s gaze, the tabby let out a very loud, distressed meow. Jisung grinned his wide heart-shaped smile, delighted by his success. Dori then stepped closer and rubbed his head against Jisung’s knee and flopped over onto his side. Only then did Jisung redirect his attention and reach out to pet him.

Minho laughed. “I think he likes you.” He went to the armoire on the opposite wall and found a tube of Churu in a drawer, handing it to Jisung. Soonie and Doognie quickly joined in making friends with Jisung when treats were involved. 

“Where do they live when you’re in Seoul?” Jisung asked.

“I spend most of my time here actually. If I’m gone for longer than a couple days, my property manager, Mrs Kwan, will feed and play with them. But if I need to be in the office for a lot longer, I’ll take them with me. They don’t really like the car ride, but they’ve acclimated quite well to my apartment in Seoul being their second home.”

“What about Busan?”

Minho nodded. “They were at my apartment there too, but that was a bit newer for them. I brought them back before leaving for Japan though. That was probably the longest I’d ever been away from them. They weren’t very happy with me when I came home.”

With the Churu finished, their moods turned into more playful energy. Dori and Doongie wrestled and swatted at each other, while Soonie was fixated on the string on Jisung’s zip up hoodie. Minho pulled out a basket from under the bed and tossed a couple of toys in Jisung’s direction. Jisung was delighted by Soonie’s intense focus in swatting a little yarn ball on a string that he dangled in front of him. This, more than anything else, made Jisung look very much at home, at least according to Minho who was watching all of this from a short distance.

“I think I left the feather toy in my office, I’ll be right back,” Minho said, grunting a little when his knees cracked as he stood up from the floor.

Jisung kept playing with Soonie and the little yarn ball. But on the next pass, the string slipped out from between his fingers and the yarn ball went flying across the hardwood floor and under Minho’s low platform bed frame. Jisung sighed. He hated losing Berry’s toys underneath his bed and didn’t want to make Minho go searching for it when his knees were making that horrible noise. He got on his hands and knees with his phone’s flashlight to take a look. He saw the string and strained for it, but it was still just out of reach. It had rolled behind a box on the other side of the bed. He walked around to the other side, got on his knees again, and pulled the box to the side. He didn’t have to stretch nearly as far from this angle in order to grab it. He sat up and gave a small cheer in victory towards Soonie, who had followed him, sitting and watching curiously from on top of the bed.

But when Jisung looked back down to put the box away, he froze. One corner of the box was sticking out from under the bed frame and there was a realistic-looking veiny dildo staring right back at him. Curiosity got the better of him and he pulled the box further out from under the bed to discover that this was not an average storage box. This was a long, wide, and shallow box with a clear lid and custom-cut foam lining to safely house the most beautiful and extensive dildo collection Jisung had ever seen. There had to be at least fifteen of them, maybe twenty, of all different sizes, shapes, lengths, and colors, all lined up in neat little rows. 

“What the fuck,” Jisung whispered to himself. These were…Minho’s? Did Minho like to bottom?

“Found it!” Jisung heard Minho yell from the other room.

Shit shit shit shit shit. Jisung very quickly pushed the box back into place and stood up, dangling the toy in front of Soonie’s nose as if he had been there the whole time. Soonie stared dully to the side, completely ignoring it, the little traitor. Jisung knew his face was probably beet red, looking guilty as hell, but what else could he do? He had learned so many new things about Minho in the last 48 hours, but he had not been expecting to learn this one. And it was an accident, he wasn’t snooping on purpose! He shouldn’t feel guilty for an accident.

Jisung tossed the hood of his jacket over his head to try and hide his face just as Minho reentered the room. Cradled in Minho’s hand was the plastic stick cat toy with a collection of feathers attached to the end of a string.

“Hi,” Jisung croaked out. He cleared his throat and asked, “You found the toy?” He pursed his lips together and tried to look normal. Why did he use the word toy??

They stared at one another. Minho took a small breath like he was about to say something, then seemed to change his mind and licked his lips. “Are you okay?”

Jisung quickly said, “Yeah, totally okay. Definitely okay. I should go though. We’re getting up early tomorrow to visit Nami Island.” At least it’s not a lie, Jisung thought.

”I’ll have my driver take you.”

”No, it’s fine. I don’t want to bother him. I can just call a taxi.”

”I asked Mr Roh to be on call tonight,” Minho said. “From what I gather, he enjoys reading romance novels while he waits. Being well compensated to read at his leisure is not exactly a hardship for him.”

Jisung chuckled, maybe a little awkwardly. “Alright then. Um, I’ll just go get my shoes.” 

“Sure.” Minho seemed a little disappointed that the day was ending, but he sent a text off to Mr Roh anyway. “He should be outside the gate in about five minutes.”

They came back to the living room, which was still entirely vacant. No one else seemed to have returned to the house. Jisung hoped Lixie was okay…maybe he should text her tomorrow.

“Thank you for inviting me tonight. I had a good time,” Jisung said as he put on his shoes.

”Can I see you again?” Minho asked.

Jisung paused in the middle of tying his laces, breath caught in his throat.

”I have to go to Seoul tomorrow,” Minho continued. “There are some things I need to do for my uncle that I can’t put off. But I can be back here the day after that.”

Jisung wanted to say yes, but he wasn’t sure if he should.

”And I’d love to give you a tour of the art gallery,” Minho added.” Your aunt and uncle too if they’d like to join.”

Jisung stood and nodded. ”I’ll have to check if we have something planned, but if we don’t then…s-sure.”

“Just let me know.” Minho smiled easily at him. They were quiet while they waited for Mr Roh, the crickets chirping in the background sounded far too loud to Jisung’s ears. Unfortunately, everything swung back to feeling awkward in the silence. He blamed the dildos for ruining the vibe.

Mr Roh was very gracious and an excellent driver, the car barely jostled at all on the bumpy parts of the road. But all the way back to the pension, Jisung’s mind felt like it had lost its suspension entirely. All he could think about was the colorful collection of toys that lived under Minho’s bed and what…activities he might get up to with them.

· :·᯽·: ·

Aunt Sooja’s friend and pension rental owner, Mrs Hong, had joined them for their visit to Nami Island and was acting as a tour guide for Jisung and his aunt and uncle. By the time they had made it there, Jisung had calmed down quite a bit regarding his most recent discovery about Minho. Not that he had stopped thinking about it, no, he was rather obsessed. But it was simply one of several other things that he was paying far more attention to than he was to the beauty of Nami Island. 

Minho’s request of, ‘Can I see you again?’ was going round and round in his head. If they really were friends now – it was normal for friends to spend time together, and he had agreed to it. But why did it feel like he had asked him on a date? Had he? Maybe he should ask if it was a date or not. If he asked if it was a date, that would indicate that Jisung also thought it might be, and did he want Minho to think that he thought that? But Minho had included his aunt and uncle with the invitation, which definitely made it not a date. Jisung tried not to feel disappointed that the invite wasn’t just for the two of them. But he had to ask himself, why did he want it to only be the two of them? That only made him feel greedy for wanting more alone time with Minho.

Minho, Minho, Minho. The same Minho who apparently liked to bottom. Jisung couldn't stop the image of the dildo collection from reentering his brain. The sizes had ranged from some massive chonky boys to some non-natural looking ridged things to some very normal sized ones. There were even a couple that were definitely smaller than Jisung’s own cock – not that he was comparing or anything. He felt like he needed to know why there were so many of them too. Was he a connoisseur of high-end custom made dildos? Or did he maybe accidentally purchase them all on a drunken internet shopping spree? But people don’t accidentally store things in custom shaped foam, that was very intentional.

Jisung replayed in his mind other events from the day before. Minho allowed Jisung to sit so close to him that they were almost on top of each other. Changbin looked as though he knew a special secret when he chose ‘Die With a Smile.’ Did Minho tell Changbin about what happened between them? How much did he tell him? Had Changbin been teasing his hyung for his crush? 

All day, he imagined he felt or heard his phone buzzing, checked it as a reflex, and then felt stupid when there was nothing new. Uncle Yoon even commented and asked if he was expecting someone. Jisung wondered whether Minho had been to Nami Island before and what he thought of it. Had he seen any of the dramas that had been filmed here? Did he have any favorite places to visit? He could have texted him these questions, because obviously friends text each other all the time, but he just…couldn’t get himself to do it. The two of them weren’t anything special, they were supposed to be friends now. That was the whole point. He was being ridiculous and he felt so angry at himself. 

If only Minho would reach out to him first and then maybe he could exist more peacefully.

Jisung didn’t even realize that he had been humming songs all day until Aunt Sooja had pointed it out to him. But the shock of that revelation was enough that the name of the song flew right out of his brain, never to be seen again. Mrs Hong thought it sounded like a theme to a drama, which probably meant a love song and if that was the case, then Jisung was very fucked.

Finally. Finally, Minho texted him to make plans to show them the art gallery while reiterating the invitation to include his aunt and uncle. He offered to take them to lunch in the city and then go back to Ganghwa after. And Minho wanted to pick them up himself. Uncle Yoon and Aunt Sooja easily agreed to the plan. 

Jisung was so exhausted from the day’s emotional turmoil that he went to bed early. It should have been a relaxing day and he was very aware he was causing the turmoil himself by overthinking everything. But he left Uncle Yoon, Aunt Sooja, and Mrs Hong to themselves, along with their four bottles of wine on the coffee table. 

· :·᯽·: ·

”Hey,” Jisung breathed when he opened the door to Minho. “Come on in, just gimme a second.” He left the door open for Minho to manage himself, while he went to the master bedroom to check on his aunt and uncle.

If Jisung hadn’t spent his morning being lazy in bed, scrolling on his phone, he might have been able to do something more about the sorry state of his supposedly respectable elders. After showering and getting dressed, he discovered Uncle Yoon, Aunt Sooja, and Mrs Hong passed out together in the living room. They definitely knew how to have a good time, it was one of many reasons why they were his favorite relatives, but sometimes it came at the cost of having to take care of them.

Jisung heard the shower running in their en-suite bathroom and knocked on the door. Uncle Yoon’s voice beckoned him in, which meant it was Aunt Sooja in the shower. When he opened the door, he saw Uncle Yoon starfished across the bed, but still in his clothes from yesterday.

“How are you feeling?” Jisung asked. 

Uncle Yoon sat up with a decent amount of coordination. “I’m actually not too bad, but Sooja is a lot worse. We’re definitely not going to survive going out today. Can you apologize to Minho for us?” he replied.

The universe might have been listening in on Jisung’s fretting, because it looked like he was going to get his wish to be alone with Minho after all. But after having prepared himself to not be alone, he suddenly felt nervous about the prospect.

“Okay, yeah, but, you’re sure you don’t want to go?” Jisung asked.

”I’ll have to pass. Third wheeling you and Minho sounds terrible.”

”Samchooon, it’s not like that…” Jisung whined.

”Oh, really?” Uncle Yoon rolled his eyes.

”We’re just friends,” he insisted.

”Well, I have two eyes, Sung-ah, and there is far too much evidence against it. Case closed. Go have fun with the handsome boy and if you come back here before 2am, I’m going to give you a stern talking to.”

“Yes, sir,” Jisung said with a huff.

Uncle Yoon gleefully waved at him as Jisung left the bedroom and shut the door. 

“My aunt and uncle aren’t coming with us, they’re a bit hungover and they are sorry they can’t make it,” Jisung informed Minho.

“Oh, that’s a shame.” Though Minho didn’t seem particularly devastated by this turn of events.

“What are Lixie, Hyunjin, and your brother up to today? Will we see them later?” 

Minho shook his head and then pulled out his phone. “They all stayed in Seoul, Lixie said she had writing to do and Hyunjin insisted on taking Changbin shopping for new clothes to accommodate his uh…new size.”

“You didn’t want to go with them?”

Minho gave him an amused look and said, “And watch my dongsaeng make aegyo poses all day asking if his ass looks good in every pair of pants he tries? No, thank you.”

Jisung laughed. Minho put his phone back in his pocket and smiled sweetly at him.

”I guess it’s just us,” Minho murmured.

“I guess so,” Jisung murmured back.

“Shall we?”

Jisung very quickly threw his sketchbook and a few other miscellaneous things into a messenger bag and joined Minho outside. He took the opportunity to fully enjoy how remarkably stunning and effortlessly cool Minho looked leaning against his car, with the sun shining down on him, and his sunglasses shielding his face. He was wearing a loose linen button down with a couple buttons undone and a pair of chinos. He really liked seeing the more casual side of Minho.

Minho broke into a grin when he saw Jisung walking toward him and he felt his stomach do a tiny flip-flop.

· :·᯽·: ·

Minho gave him control of the music on the drive into the city. Once Jisung started humming along with one of the songs, Minho joined in with actually singing. Every song thereafter became a duet for them and Minho continued to amaze Jisung with his beautiful singing voice. With how adamant that Minho had been that he didn’t like to sing in front of strangers, Jisung felt very pleased that he had relaxed enough to sing with him. 

Jisung’s phone buzzed with a text from Uncle Yoon.

 

Yoon-samchon (12:53pm)

Please tell your boyfriend thank you for the soup

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Jisung-joka (12:53pm)

He got you soup? When?

Also he’s not my boyfriend 

Yoon-samchon (12:54pm)

Uh huh, sure

Mr Chae’s nephew delivered hangover soup just now and when I tried to tell him we didn’t order any, he said Lee Minho sent it

Jisung put his phone away and stared at Minho, who was still softly singing along to an I-dle song. This man was too much. Jisung had intended to get hangover soup for his aunt and uncle before he left, but in the chaos of the morning, he completely forgot. He was about to say something when —

“What the hell is going on?” Minho muttered to himself, irritatedly.

“Huh?” Jisung snapped his attention back towards the outside world and noticed that they were stuck in a bit of traffic downtown with lots of clusters of pedestrians who all seemed to be headed in one direction.

“Oh my god. I can't believe I forgot,” Minho said.

“What?”

“It’s the Mime Festival.”

“The…what?” Jisung replied incredulously.

“The Chuncheon International Mime Festival.”

“You’re fucking with me.” 

“I’m really not. Look.” Minho pointed at a vertical banner that hung from a lamppost that…yup, advertised for the Chuncheon International Mime Festival happening this week. 

The signal turned green and a car parked at the curb just ahead of them started to merge into traffic. Minho quickly veered into the spot the car had just left and did a perfect parallel parking job in no time. He turned to Jisung with a strange, yet eager look on his face and said, “You wanna go?”

Jisung raised his eyebrows. “To the Mime Festival?” 

Minho nodded. 

Jisung chuckled. “Sure, why not. There’s a first time for everything, right?”

Jisung left his bag in the car and the two of the followed the small crowd around the corner to a street that was completely shut down to usual traffic. People were mostly milling about, checking out various pop up tents with vendors selling food, trinkets, and…water guns? Performers were handing out flyers advertising their shows that were coming up later that afternoon and also happening throughout the week.

They had yet to see any mimes though.

Minho pointed out a standalone food cart selling corndogs and Jisung happily agreed to start their food adventure there. Minho bought them each one along with a couple of water bottles. Minho got one covered in ground-up Hot Cheetos and Jisung, one rolled in cubes of potatoes for some built in French fries. He might have watched Minho take the first bite of his corndog with the memory fresh in his mind of what was currently residing in a box under his bed at Ganghwa. He tried very hard not to think of what other things either him or Minho might wrap their lips around. 

They walked slowly along, people watching and pointing out interesting things to each other under the vendors’ tents. A couple of short blocks later and they reached a small stage set up. One stage had a band getting ready to perform and another where someone was giving some sort of speech off of handheld cue cards amongst a group of about six people, all standing there with microphones.

“I think it’s the opening ceremony.” Minho spoke low in Jisung’s ear. Jisung hummed in acknowledgment, he wasn’t really paying attention to what they were saying because Minho was standing close enough behind him that Jisung’s shoulder briefly brushed against Minho’s chest and it sent butterflies dancing in his stomach. 

Jisung breathed deeply and took in his surroundings a bit more in order to ground himself. He noticed there were a lot of people wearing plastic ponchos, which was really weird. The sky was clear blue and sunny, there’s no way it was going to rain.

The MC on stage began a countdown from five and much of the crowd joined in. After one, there was a loud pop and streamers burst into the air. Jisung felt behind him Minho startle from the noise, then swear under his breath as the crowd cheered. 

And then all hell broke loose. 

The first spray of water rained down on them with big heavy droplets and Jisung shrieked along with several of their neighbors in the crowd from the cold shock. Jisung turned to Minho and he was about to ask him what the hell was going on, but Minho stood there with his shoulders hunched and an open mouthed grimace on his face and his hair very wet, creating a wide black curtain that stuck to his forehead and hung in his eyes. Jisung thought he looked like a so-angry-it’s-cute drenched cat. Jisung couldn’t help it and he burst out laughing as he took in the sight. 

“You think it’s funny?” Minho sneered.

Jisung could only reply with more laughter as Minho swiped his bangs to the side and started laughing himself, though somewhat more maniacally. But Jisung should have been paying closer attention because within seconds, Minho dumped half his water bottle over the top of Jisung’s head without warning. It only took a moment of registering Minho’s vengeful glee before they were fully in it, chasing and dodging each other in the crowd. At the sidelines, there were large plastic trash cans full of water that people were using to refill their water-based arsenal. The pair of them returned again and again, dunking their water bottles into the trash can. 

Minho’s shirt clung to him as he grinned wildly, like there was no better version of chaos that could ever exist. Jisung couldn’t stop looking. He felt just as overwhelmed by his physique as he had a few days ago when Minho was out for a run. They kept orbiting each other in the crowd, locking eyes through the falling water, both of them laughing until their stomachs ached from it.

They eventually found themselves in a standoff on either side of the water-filled trash can, bottles in hand, ready to attack. When Jisung shifted a step in one direction or the other, Minho followed suit. Jisung decided to make a run for it to try and get past him and Minho pounced. Jisung successfully dodged, but Minho overshot and nearly ran into a child. Everything seemed to move into slow motion as Minho spun away from the child, but lost his footing. Jisung lunged to grab Minho’s wrist to prevent him from falling and pulled him back. With his trajectory shifting, Minho unintentionally landed against Jisung’s chest with a small oof sound. Jisung had to slide an arm around Minho’s waist to steady them both. There they stood, face-to-face, wrapped in each other, drenched and flushed. The moment lingered while their chests rose and fell against each other in a dizzying head rush. Jisung kind of didn’t want to let go.

“You okay?” Jisung asked. Being this close, he noticed for the first time that Minho had a small freckle on the side of his nose. Cute.

“Yeah, thanks,” Minho said and stepped back.

“Truce?” Jisung suggested.

Minho cackled, then nodded. They wordlessly fell in step with one another, darting through the crowd to get off the asphalt street and onto the sidewalk where there were less people running amok. They walked back towards the way they came so they could put some distance between them and the splash zone.

“How is this even related to mimes?” Jisung exclaimed. “I swear, I thought we were gonna see an army of clowns or something.”

Minho pointed at a sandwich board sign that said ‘Opening Nanjang Surajang’ chaos and pandemonium, with a subtitle of ‘Warning: you may get wet.’ Jisung did not notice the sign when they had entered the area at all.

“Korean mime traditions can often relate to dokkaebi myths, a creature that thrives on mischief and chaos,” Minho said.

Jisung shook his head, half-doubtful, half-amazed. “How do you know that?”

“When I was in grade school, we went to one of the miming classes they offer as a field trip once. Weird how sometimes what you learn as a kid can live forever in your brain, isn’t it?”

Minho insisted that he needed a photo of Jisung and how ridiculous he looked after their water fight. He agreed only if he could get one of Minho too. He didn’t mind having photographic evidence of the way Minho’s shirt clung to him. After they finished posing for each other, Jisung was swiping through his photos and Minho called his name. He looked up just in time to see Minho taking a selfie, but with a ridiculous filter on that made both of their heads turn into giant strawberries with two eyes and a mouth each.

“Noooo,” Jisung whined. “Please don’t post those!”

“Don’t worry, I only share pictures of my cats online.” 

“As strawberries?”

“Yes, and they are very good boys who never complain about having a strawberry for a head,” Minho protested in faux complaint. “Unlike someone else I know.”

“I am a very good boy.” Jisung stuck his tongue out at Minho and pouted. Minho was about to take a picture of that too, but something caught his attention over Jisung’s shoulder. He grabbed Jisung’s elbow and pulled him towards a table that was set up as a painting station with canvases and large containers of paint. There were already a handful of kids causing chaos and taking the finger painting activities to a whole new level by painting themselves more than the canvases that were strewn about. Chaos and pandemonium indeed.

“We should make some too,” Minho said.

“What? Uh, no, I’m okay.”

Minho’s brow furrowed in concern and he asked quietly, “Have you still not painted anything?”

Jisung shook his head very slightly, keeping his attention on the kids and not on how Minho was studying him and making him feel uneasy and vulnerable and far too seen.

“Drawing?”

“I’ve been drawing.” Drawing you. But Jisung was going to keep that knowledge to himself. 

“We could paint one together?” Minho suggested.

“I don’t know…”

Jisung really wished he would stop looking at him like that. Minho considered him for another moment, then said, “Okay, you don’t have to, but you are required to be a witness to the disaster I’m about to make.”

Minho pulled Jisung, again by his elbow, closer to the table containing the pile of blank canvases. Jisung felt like they were all staring at him judgmentally. Minho picked one up, handed it to Jisung to carry, and continued on to the paint selection. 

“What’s your favorite color?” Minho asked.

“Green.”

“Mine’s pink.”

Minho grabbed a couple of small paint trays and pink and green tubes of washable paint that were available. He pulled Jisung along again to a spot on the ground away from the children's chaos. He laid the canvas on the asphalt and squeezed the bubblegum pink and forest green paints into separate trays, then dipped a finger into the green paint. Minho spread a line of green paint along the bottom of the canvas, then added two vertical lines, stopping about midway. Minho wiped the excess green paint directly onto his pants and Jisung stared in horror. Granted, tempura would easily wash out, but even so, those pants probably cost more than one of Jisung’s weekly paychecks. With a flat palm, Minho dipped his other hand into the puddle of pink paint and placed it on the canvas at the top of the green line. 

“There, I made you a flower,” Minho said. 

Jisung’s hand jumped forward with an urge to join in, but he made a fist and held it back. Minho must have noticed because he picked up the tray of green paint and offered it to Jisung. He hesitated before grasping it. The shiny smooth texture and the distinct chalky scent of the tempura paint filled his senses and sent him back twenty years to when art class meant playtime, rather than the labor of carefully planning a canvas, without knowing if the fickle, unreliable spark of inspiration would ever show. 

Minho dipped his head down in order to catch Jisung’s averted gaze. “May I?” He held an open hand near Jisung’s own. “I’ll do all the work for you.”

Jisung straightened himself and took a long, fragile moment to really look into Minho’s eyes. He felt like he could have been undone right there. The stoic mask was entirely gone and instead there was warm unguarded fondness, a tenderness that felt too gentle for someone like Minho. Beneath even that, there was an admiration that felt comforting in a way that sort of scared him. For all he knew, they were no longer at a festival, surrounded by people; it was only Jisung and Minho. The desire to let go swelled painfully in his chest. He wanted to release every carefully held fear about his art and put it into Minho’s hands. 

Jisung nodded and held his hand out to Minho.

Minho gently grasped his wrist and Jisung felt a zing of electricity run through him. Minho turned his hand palm facing down, placing it into the green paint tray, just as he had with his own in the pink. He laid his hand over the top of Jisung’s and pressed down. Minho lifted his hand and placed it on the canvas, at the top of the other green line, pressing his hand on top of Jisung’s again. The moment the pressure left, Jisung removed his hand and stared at the canvas. It was such a simple thing, painting via handprints, but it felt significant all the same. They had used opposite hands so their pinkie fingers overlapped in the middle of the canvas. Jisung looked at his hand and saw he had taken a few bits of pink paint with him.

Studying the picture as it was now, Jisung felt a need to make it even better. He stood from his crouched position and went back to the table with paint options, picked out yellow and black, then returned to sit next to Minho. He picked up the canvas and waved it back and forth in the air to help the paint dry a little faster. After a minute or two in silence, where Minho was still watching him the entire time, he set it back down. He squeezed yellow paint onto his index finger and dabbed it on the middle of the green palm print where his hand hadn’t fully made contact with the canvas and wouldn’t mix too much. 

He offered the tube to Minho, silently asking if he wanted to add pollen to his flower as well, but Minho just shook his head and said, “You do it.”

So Jisung continued, adding yellow to the middle of Minho’s pink flower, then making a large thumb print of yellow hovering in the sky over the flowers. 

“I didn’t see any brushes at the table, did you?” Jisung asked. 

“No I don’t think so.”

“Hmmm.” He’d have to improvise, but it wouldn’t be that hard…

Jisung added a small bit of black to one side of the green tray where there wasn’t any paint and gingerly dipped his pinkie finger in. With the lightest touch he could manage, he made some thin stripes on the yellow, added antenna and an outline of wings. The bumblebee was very disheveled looking without using brushes, but Jisung thought maybe that was part of its charm. The two of them sat there, admiring the piece of art they made together.

“I’m proud of you,” Minho whispered, slightly nudging Jisung’s shoulder with his own. “You painted.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Even if you hadn’t. Even if you just breathed, you did well.”

Jisung’s heart swelled again. It felt like it was going to burst right out of his chest. 

“Thank you,” Jisung whispered back. 

He was far more grateful than words could actually express. Minho was like a light bursting into the shadows of what was an empty void. He tried so hard on his own, not letting anyone else into this secret corner. Now that he did allow someone in to help, everything changed.

Minho reached for the paint tray and dipped an index finger into the black like Jisung had and began to add more to the yellow center of his pink flower. He dragged his finger in a circle, then added a few slanted, curved, and squiggle lines until a slightly angry little face appeared on the center of the flower. When he was done, Minho showed off his creation to Jisung with a proud smile.

“I’d like you to meet Jureumi,” said Minho.

“You named it?”

“Of course, I named him, he’s my son.”

Jisung huffed a small laugh and muttered, “Hyung, you’re so weird.”

If mortification and elation could be hidden on one’s face, both Jisung and Minho, respectively, were attempting to do exactly that. Jisung had never called him ‘hyung’ before. It just slipped out.

“But the ideal kind of weird, right?” Minho said, nudging him again.

The rest of the afternoon flew by. They stowed the canvas away in the trunk of Minho’s car and returned to the festival where they ate more snacks and basked in the warm sun, letting it dry their clothes for them. They watched fire performers and aerialists. They jumped and danced around to a band doing rock ‘n’ roll covers. 

They finally witnessed a mime performance in the middle of the street. A man in a suit and a top hat was painted gray from head to toe, standing stone still on a plinth, like a living statue. Jisung and Minho stood watching from a slight distance and laughed heartily every time he moved and gave a scare to an unsuspecting festival attendee. 

When they were hungry for dinner, Minho led the way through the streets of downtown Chuncheon, away from the festival and into a pedestrian alley full of restaurants. He beelined for a specific place which, of course, was tiny and Minho knew the owner. Jisung felt like he shouldn’t have been surprised, as there was no denying that Lee Minho had good taste in food, and he seemed to have a gift for being beloved by elderly restaurant owners. 

They sat down at a table at the busy restaurant and the owner brought them bottles of beer and soju for mixing their own somaek. Minho ordered dakgalbi for them both without asking Jisung what he wanted, but he also explained that it was a dish native to Chuncheon.

“You’re not allowed to visit and not have some. And this place,” Minho said while gesturing around them, “has the best dakgalbi in the whole city.”

“Really?”

Minho shrugged. “Maybe. It’s my favorite at least.”

“Next time you’re in Busan, I’ll take you to my favorite spot for dwaeji gukbap.” The words were uttered before Jisung could stop them. He could hardly believe that he had just suggested making future plans with Minho. But the man just smiled at him wistfully and nodded.

They were fairly quiet as they waited for their food to arrive, Jisung had been feeling that soft protective bubble around them all week and here it was once again. He granted himself a moment to study the person sitting across from him. He realized at that moment that Minho’s silence held the same quality as it ever did. Which really only left him with one conclusion: their silences together previously felt awkward because Jisung had felt awkward. Minho had always been content and now Jisung was experiencing what it felt like to be comfortable around Minho. Comfortable enough that he shared a creative moment with him that afternoon. He yearned to see more of Minho’s creative side.

After their food arrived and was placed on a hot plate in the middle of the table, Minho stirred the dakgalbi and dished up bowls for them, while Jisung asked, “Do you wish that you could have been a dancer? Instead of what you do now?” 

If Minho was surprised by the sudden question, he didn’t show it. After a moment of consideration, while looking meaningfully at Jisung, he said, “Sometimes. I do wish I hadn’t gotten injured. But if my life had gone differently, maybe I wouldn’t have met Lixie and Hyunjin. And if I hadn’t met them, it’s even less likely I would have met you.”

Jisung tried not to read too much into the implication that meeting him was worth the painful events Minho had experienced in the last decade of his life. His injury, Eunji, his parents. That felt like far too heavy of a responsibility to bear. Instead he took a large sip of his maekju, just to give him something to do with his mouth other than say or do something incredibly stupid.

Jisung struggled bravely through the spicy dish, blotting his nose with a handful of napkins as the heat crept up on him. He was thankful that the maekju was able tame the burn somewhat, but still his cheeks flushed and his eyes watered. It was hard to tell whether it was the alcohol or the spice that was making his face so red. 

Minho glanced at him with an unmistakably amused smirk, teasing him about how red he’d gone. But he still offered sincerely, “We’ll stick to something less spicy next time, then you won’t have to suffer alone.”

Jisung’s ears picked up the next time that Minho just suggested and he felt foolishly hopeful that it might actually happen.

Still, Jisung couldn’t deny that the dakgalbi was probably the best he’d ever had. It was savory and deliciously addictive enough that he kept going back for more even as his face burned.

He was also slightly distracted from the pain with Minho’s very enthusiastic reaction to the food. He did vaguely remember Chan’s impression of Minho’s orgasmic moan while eating Bang Fried Chicken, and now Jisung was getting to witness it first hand while sitting at a table across from him. It was surprising, he had had several meals with the man before and not once experienced this. Had he really avoided paying attention to Minho this much in the past? Or maybe the food was never good enough before to elicit such a reaction? It wasn’t necessarily the sound he made that was odd, but it was the moan paired with the way Minho rolled his eyes to the back of his head on the first bite of chicken. It was the way that he wiggled a bit when he chewed. It was simultaneously adorable and sensual. Jisung felt a little mesmerized by him.

After their stomachs were full and they were only nursing their drinks, their spirit for conversation was revived by comparing and contrasting their opinions about horror films. Their disagreements over what made a film actually scary were the most friendly of all bickerings that Jisung had ever experienced with Minho. He made for a fun debate partner. 

“I’ll tell you a secret though,” Jisung said, leaning in to mutter to Minho. “I can’t watch them alone, I get too scared.”

“Aw, do you need someone to protect you from the dangerous monsters under your bed?” Minho teased. Jisung could think of a monster or two that lived in a box under Minho’s bed though. He attempted to step on Minho’s foot under the table, but he captured Jisung’s ankle between his feet and wouldn’t let go.

Minho asked Mr Roh to drive them back to Ganghwa in Minho’s car, since they had both been drinking. By the time they got back, the sun had already dipped below the horizon. They decided that the visit to Ganghwa Art Gallery would have to wait as some rooms, such as the one housing the sculpture collection, were best viewed during daylight hours. Instead, they made a list of ten films they had to watch together with every intent of starting one of them immediately.

· :·᯽·: ·

Jisung stood just outside the doors of the kitchen on the middle wing of the ㅌ shaped hanok and stared up at the sky with a multitude of stars that were slowly blinking into existence as twilight faded into dusk. He really liked Minho's corner of the world. How was he going to be able to leave this place at the end of the week and go back to his normal life? He’d always lived in the city, but Busan could still be a lazy beach town compared to Seoul. This place reminded him most of his visits to the Bang Family Farm when he was a child, a place he loved, where he felt loved, and had always been quite comfortable just existing. Maybe he felt that even more so at Ganghwa because his family was so often a chaotic mess and here it was even simpler. Maybe it was just…Minho.

The rapid pop pop pop sound of corn kernels exploding prompted him to go back inside. Together they carried a large bowl of popcorn and some sodas to the living room in the other wing. They chose a horrible B-movie that Minho had seen before, but was new to Jisung. They ended up sitting closer than Jisung might have initially chosen because Dori and Soonie were already snoozing on opposite ends of the couch and it would have been criminal to move them.

From the very beginning, they entertained themselves with silly commentary on the cheesy dialogue and over-the-top acting. However, true to his word, and only about twenty minutes into their chosen film, Jisung startled so much from a jump scare that he grabbed Minho’s hand and held it to his chest for about half a minute until he realized what he was doing and returned it safely to Minho’s lap. 

When their popcorn bowls were empty, Jisung volunteered to refill them with what they had left on the stove. He lingered in the kitchen a moment longer than necessary, steadying himself before returning. If someone had asked him a week ago if he’d thought he’d end up cuddling on a couch with PDnim Lee Minho in the near future, he probably would have laughed until he died. The idea that Minho might have asked him on a date today reentered his mind. The entire day felt romantic and date-like and the idea that that might have been what Minho had intended…

Minho’s arm was spread across the back of the sofa when Jisung sat down again. He wiggled a bit until he found a comfortable spot in the cushions, which happened to include one leg tucked underneath him and his knee resting on top of the edge of Minho’s thigh. He paused to consider it, then let himself relax into the back cushion, and Minho’s arm just so happened to be in the right place to use it as a pillow. Minho didn’t comment on how the shift of their positions was a bit closer and simply pressed play again.

A jump scare moment happened again and Jisung automatically hid his head into Minho’s shoulder, the sudden movement startled Soonie and he jumped off the couch with an annoyed nyan sound. When Jisung uncovered his eyes, he didn’t move away fully and relaxed into the side of Minho’s body for safety. It felt like they just fit together and that thought didn’t allow his heart to relax at all.

“Can I ask you something?” Minho softly interrupted a dull moment in the story, though Jisung’s mind was not dull. He could feel Minho’s voice faintly vibrate against where they were touching and he felt like the buzzing transferred to himself from anticipation.

“Oh, sure,” Jisung said easily, in contrast to how he felt internally. 

“About when we were in Jeju.”

“You…want to talk about that?” The idea made Jisung feel nervous, but…what if?

“Is that okay?” Minho asked. 

Jisung breathed in, exhaled out slowly, and found that his curiosity for what Minho wanted to say far outweighed his desire to avoid the conversation completely. “Yeah.” 

“About my letter. Did it…when you first read it, how soon did it change your mind about me?”

Jisung kept his eyes on the screen as he answered, but his words felt as slow as molasses as he tried to explain himself well. “Pretty quickly. But also, not right away. I didn’t want to believe any of it, at first, but with the information you gave me, it only took a few Naver searches to realize she was lying to me, to everyone, about her past. And then, once I realized she was lying to me, I saw it everywhere. Which made me realize how much I was judging you for things you didn’t actually do. The longer I sat with it, the more I saw you in a different light.”

“I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy read, but it felt necessary.” Minho laughed bitterly at himself. “When I wrote it, I was so sure that I was calm and collected, but after thinking a lot about that night, I feel as though it was written out of bitterness. I hope you destroy that letter.” 

“We can burn an effigy if it’ll make you feel better. And maybe it started out bitterly, but I don’t think you ended the letter that way. You trusted me with a lot by telling me the truth and that turned out better for both of us. We don’t have to dwell on the negative parts, right?”

“I can’t forgive myself that easily. I’d rather have a painful reminder to prevent me from slipping into my bad habits again, or worse, turning into my father.”

“What do you mean?” Jisung asked. “You’re habitually protecting the people you care about. I admire that.”

Minho sighed wearily. “My mother was always fiercely protective of us. My best qualities come directly from her. I’ve tried to do the best I can, but that doesn’t mean I was always very kind with acting on good principles. My father taught me that I was better than everyone else and should expect people to fall in line. You were completely right that I wasn’t used to people telling me ‘no.’ I assumed you knew what I was thinking and that we were on the same page. It was arrogant and selfish of me to expect so much from you, when I’d barely tried. I owe you so much, Han Jisung, for showing me how wrong my ideas were about making someone happy.” 

“I mean you weren’t completely wrong…”

Jisung felt Minho shift to try and get a better look at his face, but he stayed hidden where he was, fidgeting and making sweater paws with his hoodie. It was easier to say these things when they weren’t looking at each other.

”I don’t mean that we were on the same page, or that I…” Jisung said quickly. “Just that friends have told me that sometimes it might seem like I’m flirting when I’m not, so you’re not necessarily wrong if you saw something that was unintentional.” Jisung sighed and Minho relaxed again. “You must have hated me after that night.”

“Hated you? Never.” Minho scoffed. “Maybe I was angry at first, but it eventually shifted more towards myself. You gave this chaebol bastard a big reality check. I hope my head is not quite so far up my ass these days.”

Jisung used his sweater paws to hide the bottom half of his face in his hands. “No, you’ve been…lovely,” came muffled out. 

Minho’s arm tightened around Jisung’s shoulders. “I’m sorry how I acted back then, I was awful, I can admit that now. Even though it did take some time to see that. You have no idea how your words have tortured me.”

”I was angry.” Jisung pouted. “I didn’t think through what I was saying. And I didn’t think you’d take it that seriously either.”

Minho laughed humorlessly. ”I can believe that. You can’t hurt someone’s feelings if they don’t have any, right? You insinuated that I was incapable of empathy, didn’t you?”

”We can’t do this!” Jisung exclaimed as he gestured wildly with nervous energy. “How can we start over if we only nitpick about who’s to blame for everything we said to each other that night?”

”The real cherry on top…”

Jisung finally left his hiding spot and turned in his seat on the couch so he could properly give Minho a warning glare, who only looked back at him in delight. ”Don’t.”

“You said that I was ‘the last man in the—‘“

Jisung leapt towards him and covered Minho’s mouth with his hands. “Don’t repeat what I said then, I’m ashamed of it now.” Jisung’s face flushed pink as he looked back at Minho, who rapidly blinked back at him in surprise. Jisung stayed frozen, he felt Minho’s jagged breath on his hands and his own heart racing inside him. The expression in Minho’s eyes went from shocked to intrigued, and threatened to turn towards something darker. Jisung moved his hands away as if he’d been burned, putting some distance between them on the cushions.

Minho didn’t seem perturbed, just smiled gently at him. Jisung settled into the couch again just as the villain onscreen roared a chainsaw to life and started chasing the male and female leads through the woods. He waved towards the screen to direct Minho’s attention back to the movie and they let the subject drop. They ended up starting a second movie and despite Jisung trying to moderate the distance between them after that conversation, they kept shifting magnetically towards each other. 

· :·᯽·: ·

Jisung didn’t realize that he’d fallen asleep until he woke to the soft feeling of someone petting his head. Jisung was horizontal and he was hugging the pillow his head was resting on. He sighed at the pleasant feeling of gentle fingers occasionally running through his strands of hair. He opened his eyes and saw the menu screen on the tv, their second movie apparently over already. He turned his head in the direction of the soft caresses and saw Minho scrolling mindlessly on his phone. The hand on his head stopped as he looked down and met Jisung’s curious gaze.

“It’s late, do you want to stay over?” Minho asked a little too casually. 

“Stay?” Jisung lifted up onto one elbow and stared with boba eyes. He watched the movement of Minho’s Adam's apple as he swallowed.

“We have a guest room that you’re more than welcome to,” Minho replied.

The desire to linger at Ganghwa for just a bit longer hummed quietly inside him. “Okay.”

Jisung shot off a quick text to his aunt and uncle, grabbed his bag, and they headed upstairs. All three cats followed, zooming past their feet and turning the corner at the top of the stairs. Jisung barely saw the end of Dori’s tail. Clearly they had a bedtime routine and were eager to follow it.

Minho headed in the opposite direction of the cats and slid open a door at the end of the hall. 

“Make yourself at home, I’ll bring you a towel and some pajamas,” Minho said. Jisung nodded and he was left alone to explore. 

It was a very nice room and a mirror image layout to Minho’s own bedroom, except without a balcony. Opening the two other doors in the room, he found an empty closet and a large en-suite bathroom. The drawers under the sink were already stocked with everything he could possibly want for toiletries and skin care, all in little trial sizes. Jisung wondered if maybe Minho got a lot of samples from work. 

Jisung tried out the bed by flopping down on his back. He sank into it nicely and sighed. It was cozy enough that he felt like he could fall asleep immediately, but Minho’s footsteps on the hardwood floor soon announced his arrival and Jisung pushed himself up on his elbows. Minho paused in the doorway with his mouth open, about to speak, but he seemed completely caught off guard by Jisung.

He felt a bit confused as to why and Jisung looked down at himself. He was laid there on the bed with his legs spread wide on either side of one corner with one foot still on the floor. And by leaning back on his elbows, he was looking up at Minho through his lashes. The position he was in might have seemed seductive or inviting if the circumstances allowed it. Especially since the fabric of his jeans draped noticeably over his dick that left just enough to the imagination for plausible deniability. 

Jisung quickly got to his feet and said, “The bed’s very comfy!”

Minho composed himself, nodded once, and handed him a small pile of fabric. “There’s a towel and a few clothing options.”

”Thank you,” Jisung said as he took the pile and set it on the dresser next to him. 

Minho turned to leave the room again, then stood just outside the door. He followed Minho and leaned against the doorframe. “If you need anything,” Minho said, “I guess you already know where my room is, but I’m just at the other end of the hall. Don’t be afraid to knock.”

Oh, Jisung was definitely too afraid to knock, but he nodded anyway. ”The room is perfect. Thank you,” he said softly. 

”Of course. Sleep well.”

”Goodnight.” 

And before Jisung could think, before he realized what he was doing, his body leaned forward and he gave a light peck to Minho’s lips. Jisung stepped back immediately, surprised by his own actions, while Minho just stood frozen and wide-eyed in front of him. 

“I, um, I — I hope you sleep good too,” Jisung said quickly before unceremoniously sliding the door shut and leaning himself against the wall, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. 

Jisung waited, holding his breath, until he heard a faint, “Goodnight, Jisung-ah,” murmured on the other side of the door, and muffled footsteps that followed soon after.

Stupid stupid stupid, what was he thinking?? He wasn’t thinking, that was the problem. He needed to clear out his foggy brain and actually figure out what he was feeling. He went on auto-pilot with taking a quick shower and getting ready for bed while his mind churned. Jisung let himself relax under the hot steamy water in the shower and eventually, with some breathing exercises, his thoughts slowed. 

It had only been a few days and yet everything was so different. He felt the same happy rush just thinking about Minho as he did when he spent time with him. Whenever Jisung had been apart from previous boyfriends or crushes, the concept that ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ seemed to ring true until the actual reunion. He would miss them with this terrible ache and feel butterflies when he imagined getting to kiss and hold them again, but then once they were finally together? Nothing. The feeling would evaporate. It was like he had built up the idea of them, or the idea of being tangled up in bed with them. But actually being with his exes felt like he was hanging out with Seungmin. There was nothing lacking with Minho. It was definitely weird to be comparing him to his other crushes and ex-boyfriends, right?

He was grateful that they were friends now. He felt so uneasy because he was embarrassed about all the things that he’d thought and said about Minho before he really knew him. Now that he did know him better, now that they had cleared the air about so many things, Jisung couldn’t ignore the strength of his attraction to Minho anymore. Maybe that was what actually scared him, how much he actually wanted. Maybe it was okay, crossing the friendship boundary, that is, if Minho was okay with it too. Should he apologize for it? Now, or in the morning? Or at all? It wasn’t even a real kiss, just a little peck anyway.

After the shower, Jisung thanked his past distracted self for throwing his glasses case into his bag, because it meant he wouldn’t have to sleep in his contacts. He changed into the shorts and t-shirt Minho gave him, along with a navy blue hoodie that was in the pile, then climbed under the covers and turned off the light on the nightstand. The hoodie felt soft and lived in. He brought the collar up to his nose and found it smelled like Minho. Jisung turned over onto his side and slowly ran a hand through his hair in the same way that Minho had been caressing it on the couch. It wasn’t long before he was fast asleep.

· :·᯽·: ·

Jisung woke the next day to a soft glow of sunlight radiating through the latticed hanji-covered windows. Between the pillowy soft blankets and the haze of sleep leaving his mind, he felt as though he were still dreaming. Only a dream could be this perfectly cozy. He stretched out his limbs and gave a contented sigh. Jisung was surprised he slept as well as he did. He had expected that his anxiety over the accidental kiss might keep him awake, but something about Ganghwa felt comforting and safe.

It was just past 10am and Jisung felt eager to find Minho. He quickly washed his face and brushed his teeth, then padded down the stairs. He was not difficult to find, all he had to do was follow his nose towards the scents of coffee, bacon, and stir fried vegetables that permeated the air. 

Jisung half hid behind the open sliding door that separated the kitchen and dining room, watching Minho work the stove. It was almost like a dance the way he moved with such ease through the space, doing a perfect sauté toss, catching everything cleanly back into the pan. Whatever song he was singing to himself was entirely in sync with his culinary precision. However, Jisung felt a little rattled by Minho’s choice of wardrobe: grey sweatpants sitting low on his hips and a white tank top that hugged every curve of muscle that shifted and bounced as he moved. Jisung shifted on his feet and a floorboard creaked loudly underneath him. 

“Morning,” Minho called out with his back still turned.

Jisung couldn’t very well hide anymore and he sauntered into the kitchen with his own, “Good morning.”

“Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

Minho turned the burners on the stove to the lowest setting, then picked up a carafe of coffee from a warming plate to pour into a mug. When he finally turned and saw Jisung, he did a double take. Minho’s eyes raked over him, taking in the way he was enveloped in the oversized hoodie, and he smiled softly. “You look good in glasses.”

“Thanks.” Jisung felt a little thrown off by the very pointed attention and he sat on the bar stool in front of where Minho placed the mug. He busied himself instead with doctoring up his coffee with just the right amount of cream and sugar. 

“Um, Minho…about last night, I—“

”Don’t worry about it,” Minho interrupted, his back still turned while he managed things on the stove.

”You’re sure? I didn’t mean to—“

”It’s okay.”

Without actually explaining himself, Jisung couldn’t tell in what way Minho was okay with the peck of a kiss. Was it okay because he understood that it was an accident? Or was he actually not okay with it, but didn’t want to make it a big deal? Regardless, Minho seemed to be drawing a line of not wanting to talk about the kiss, so he decided to let it go for now. 

Jisung took a careful sip to test the temperature of his coffee, but then almost spit it out in surprise.

“Where did you get this?” Jisung demanded.

“What, the coffee?” Minho asked distractedly as he poured raw scrambled eggs over the top of the bacon and vegetables in the pan. “I made it.”

“But this tastes like the coffee I had in Japan. Where did you get it and can I buy an entire keg’s worth?”

Minho chuckled. “I also made you coffee in Japan.”

“What??” Jisung exclaimed.

“I asked the hotel to supply my favorite roasted beans so I could make my espresso every morning the way I like it. They were very accommodating.”

“I thought the staff was making it.”

“I know.” Minho glanced at him over his shoulder. “It was cute how oblivious you were.”

Cute. Minho thought he was cute. 

Jisung wasn’t sure if he felt more flustered by that or by the daydream fantasy of Minho making him coffee every morning. Perhaps if he hadn’t misjudged him so much, they could have had a morning ritual like this together for longer than…

Oh no, that was dangerous territory. Despite everything, he had no real guarantee that Minho wanted to be anything more than friends. 

While Jisung was caught up in his distracted thoughts, Minho dished out the finished egg scramble onto a couple of large tortillas and wrapped them up. He came around the other side of the kitchen island with their plates and sat himself on the bar stool directly next to Jisung.

”Thank you, this smells amazing,” Jisung said.

“Breakfast burritos were my favorite thing to eat whenever I was in LA for work,” Minho said. “I was craving one this morning.”

Jisung took a bite and immediately hummed in delicious pleasure over the blend of flavors.

”Oh my god, what did you put in this?” Jisung asked as soon as he swallowed enough to speak. “It’s incredible!”

”I’m glad you like it, but I can’t reveal my recipe,” Minho said with a smug little smile.

Jisung barked out an incredulous laugh. ”Really? But it’s only a breakfast burrito.”

”Only a breakfast burrito?? What happened to ‘incredible’ just a moment ago. If you can make it yourself, then what else am I going to do to lure you back into my kitchen?”

”I’d come back anyway, I can’t cook.”

”Can’t cook? You’ve been running a fried chicken restaurant for years.” Minho shook his head in disbelief.

”Fine, I can make one thing. But that’s only because my mom would beat my ass if I didn’t make her chicken exactly perfectly every time. Trying to learn new recipes is just difficult for me I guess…” Jisung trailed off, trying not to let any residue of shame sneak in on such a nice morning.

”Guess I’m safe then,” Minho said.

”Yeah, so you should just tell me.”

“Give me one good reason.” 

”Because you think I’m cute.” The words just popped out of his mouth. He tried to hide his subsequent off-kilter feeling by poking a finger to his cheek and pouting his lips in the cutest way possible. Minho sputtered and turned his head away like he had a couple days ago when Jisung said his voice sounded romantic. He felt a little thrill at the reaction. It was kind of fun trying to make Minho crack.

“I’ll just have to guess what it is then.” Jisung took another large bite and closed his eyes as he savored every flavor. Once he chewed and swallowed, he stared Minho down as he listed off some ingredients. “Kimchi, spinach, mushroom, onion, potato, bacon, eggs, and…”

Minho leaned in, which halted Jisung’s ability to speak, and whispered, “Cheese. The secret is the right kind of cheese.” He glanced down at Jisung’s mouth. “Which you seem to have all over you.” 

Jisung held his breath as Minho reached towards his face. He thumbed away a stray string of cheddar at the corner of Jisung’s mouth and then stuck his thumb in his own mouth to lick it away. Jisung was captivated and had to blink himself back to reality when he realized he was staring at Minho’s lips, which were now curled in amusement.

Okay, maybe Jisung was wrong? Maybe Minho did want something more than friends, because that was very, very hot.

Minho turned away and began devouring his own burrito. They continued to eat in silence, but Jisung could feel Minho’s eyes turn towards him regularly. Though whenever Jisung glanced, he was entirely focused on his food. Minho’s phone was also pinging and buzzing with a text message or email notification every few minutes or so. Each time, he picked it up to read, sighed, and then set it back down on the counter.

“Sorry about this,” Minho eventually said. “The office is being very persistent this morning.”

“If you need to take it, it’s fine,” Jisung said.

”They can wait until we’re done,” Minho said simply. “What do you have planned with your aunt and uncle? Are you free to see the art gallery?” 

“Oh, let me see,” Jisung said and he pulled up his group chat with them. He also noted that Minho did not ask if his aunt and uncle were free as well. 

Jisung-joka (1:27am)

Lost track of time, gonna sleep at Ganghwa tonight

Yoon-samchon (8:31am)

Wow, Minho kept you up late, didn’t he? Haha. Hope it was fuuuun ;)

Sooja and I are going on a date today, so feel free to stay as long as you want, be safe

Jisung was not going to dignify his uncle’s suggestive commentary with a response and left him on read.

“They’ve gone off on their own. I’m free today,” Jisung said. Minho hummed an acknowledgement.

When they were both finished, Jisung stretched his arms up high over his head and groaned with how delightfully full his stomach felt. Minho snatched up their plates and coffee mugs to bring to the sink. Jisung insisted on helping him clean up, despite Minho’s protests that he was a guest.

”I’m good at washing dishes, Hyung, I do it a lot at the chicken shop,” Jisung said as he gently bumped Minho aside with his hip and took over the sink. Minho relented, but he wondered if maybe his use of ‘hyung’ is what might have influenced him.

“I should probably take care of my nagging colleagues this morning.” Minho said. “How about I show you the art gallery in the afternoon?” 

“Work work work, is that all you do?” Jisung teased.

“If you want to keep me company while I write boring emails, my book collection in my office might interest you.”

“Is this the infamous Ganghwa Library?”

“No, that one is in the big house,” Minho said. “I keep my personal collection here.”

· :·᯽·: ·

Minho’s office upstairs was nestled in the corner of the hanok between the guest bedroom and Minho’s own. It was the perfect sort of balance of clean and tidy with little pockets of chaos here and there. Bookcases lined any wallspace that didn’t have a door or a window and were packed to the brim. There were even a few messy piles of books scattered next to Minho’s desk, which sat in a corner, facing the center of the room. There was a low table and chair set near the windows and a couple of cushy oversized chairs in the middle of the room that seemed perfect for reading. A latticed sliding door, diagonal from the door to the rest of the house, opened onto a private garden that blended into the hill behind the house. Jisung had to stop himself from giving into a daydream of setting up an easel in front of the window in order to capture the landscape.

Jisung had spent the better part of the last twenty minutes just looking at all the titles that Minho had. He was a firm believer that you could tell a lot about someone by what was on their bookshelf. Minho had a little bit of everything, fiction, non-fiction, but the largest genres included romances, mysteries, and thrillers, which were also some of Jisung’s favorites, including — 

“You have a lot of Choi Yeonjun books for an anti-fan,” Jisung commented.

“What?” Minho looked confused and rose from his desk to check out what Jisung was browsing on the shelves. 

“I forgot those were there.” Minho mumbled, almost as if he were thinking out loud rather than telling Jisung. But he cleared his throat and said more clearly, “Lixie thought it would be funny to give me all the different editions and translations when we officially won the filming rights to the book. I think one of these is actually signed too.” Minho started riffling through, pulling each copy off the shelf and checking the front inside cover page.

”There!” Minho exclaimed when he found a signed hardcover of Waiting for Vengeance. He held it open for Jisung to appropriately admire and he gasped in amazement.

”Wow, this is so rare,” Jisung murmured. “He never does signing events. How did Lixie find this?”

”No idea. It’s yours now,” Minho said. He snapped the cover shut and held the book out to Jisung.

”What? No, I can’t take this!”

”Yes, you can. It’s nothing to me, and everything to you. You’re taking it.”

”Hyung…”

Minho grabbed Jisung’s wrist and forced the book into his hand. ”If you don’t take it now, I’ll just mail it to you, along with an invoice for not only the postage, but also the pain and suffering of having to stand in line at the post office.”

Jisung felt fire on his skin where Minho held him, that warm butterfly feeling in his stomach returning with full force. Jisung scoffed and gently removed his wrist from Minho’s grip, but acquiesced by taking the book with him. ”You don’t go to the post office,” he protested. “You have an assistant who does those sorts of things for you.”

”Yeah, I’d go for you,” Minho murmured low. 

“I doubt it,” Jisung grumbled, but he had a very pleased and satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he took in this new prized possession. “Thank you, Hyung.”

”You’re welcome, Jisung-ah.”

Jisung hugged the book to his chest and found Minho’s eyes sparkling back at him. Minho scrunched his nose at him cutely and went back to his desk, opening his laptop. Jisung stared after him and thought the light in the room was actually quite nice and Minho looked so regal sitting behind his desk. It would be a shame to let that go to waste. He could get out his sketchbook and draw the live version of Lee Minho instead of using photographs for reference like he had been doing for months. Jisung went to the guest bedroom to exchange the signed book with his sketchbook and returned to the office.

Jisung sat on one of the cushy armchairs and looked over at Minho. He shifted to the other chair and found he liked that angle better, so he got comfortable. Minho was so focused on what he was typing that his brow made a little crease between his eyes.

The further along he went with the portrait study, the more he relaxed and slumped in the chair until he was reclined with one leg hanging and swinging over an armrest. Just after he finished a rough outline, Doongie jumped onto the chair with him, laid down over one of his hips, and started making biscuits on his stomach. 

Jisung could not contain the excitement on his face as he glanced in Minho’s direction and found him already watching, smiling at the scene. His elbow was propped on the desk, hand in his chin. Jisung pointed at the tabby cat, looking for confirmation that this was in fact really happening. 

“Cuuute,” Minho said.

“He’s so cute,” Jisung echoed, scratching under Doongie’s chin and getting loud purrs as a reward.

“Yes, Doongie’s very cute, but I tell him that every day,” Minho replied. “I meant you.”

Jisung whipped his head back to Minho, but he had already gone back to typing on his laptop.

Their newly discovered shared interests, the cuddling, the honesty between them, Minho’s hands in his hair, the accidental kiss, and now flirting via coffee, breakfast burritos, books, and cats. Jisung’s heart couldn’t take this. Oh, he was in so much trouble. If this continued beyond this week, it wouldn’t be just a burgeoning crush, Lee Minho really might make him fall in love with him. 

· :·᯽·: ·

“Jisung,” a voice said. “Jisung-ah.” A gentle hand on his shoulder accompanied the words coaxing his attention away from his paper and pencil.

Minho’s face directly in front of him is what finally did the trick. Jisung jerked upright. The sudden movement made Doongie abandon the chair entirely, sprinting for safety across the room. He hadn’t realized that Minho had moved towards him.

”Sorry, I get really focused when I draw,” Jisung said.

“I’ve noticed.” Minho remarked, then nodded at the drawing. “Is that me?”

Jisung scratched at the back of his neck. “Is that okay? Maybe I should have asked. You were sitting so still and—”

“It’s more than okay. Can I look?” Minho had bright expectant eyes as he held his hand out to the sketchbook. Jisung hesitated, but did hand it over. 

“…it’s exquisite,” Minho said breathily. 

Jisung scoffed. “You’re just saying that because it’s your face.”

Jisung tried to grab it back and Minho instinctually held it out of his reach to emphasize the point. 

“You are gifted,” Minho said. “It could be the ugliest face anyone has ever seen and you could make it a work of art.”

They looked at each other for a long moment. Jisung really tried to let it sink in, but he’d been called gifted too many times for the word to have any meaning anymore. “Maybe, but I can always do better.”

Minho narrowed his eyes skeptically, but fondly, and held the sketchbook out to Jisung. They fumbled the handoff and it landed on the floor with an entirely different page facing up: the one of a chibi-Minho with his head and hands locked in a guillotine and chibi-Jisung ready to pull the lever.

“Oh, no, wait!”

But it was too late. Minho had seen it and he was picking the sketchbook up from the floor. Jisung hid himself inside his hoodie like a turtle as he watched Minho stoically assess the page full of little drawings.

“When did you draw this?” Minho asked.

“A while ago…”

“How long is a while?”

“October?”

Minho smirked. “I like the one with the T-rex. Can I have it?”

“What?” Jisung was astounded. That one was of a ferocious dinosaur chasing chibi-Minho on the verge of devouring him. And Minho wasn’t angry? 

“Or you can give me a copy. I’ll frame it and put it on my desk.” When Jisung didn’t respond. “Or maybe I should put it on the wall? Or donate it to the art gallery next door?”

“Stop…” Jisung was blushing horribly now and he stood from the chair, snatching the sketchbook out of Minho’s hands. He flipped the pages over the spiral bound edge until the cover was shut and the sketchbook was safely held behind his back.

“Are you hungry?” Minho asked. Jisung felt relieved that he was changing the subject. “We could have lunch and head over to the big house?”

· :·᯽·: ·

For the majority of their walk to Ganghwa House, Jisung raved about how good Minho’s kimbap was. Beyond just the delicious fillings, which were apparently courtesy of some leftovers from Changbin’s welcome home dinner, Jisung marveled at Minho’s ability to roll them so perfectly and evenly. His uncle was right that Minho was a really good cook.

“The house is actually closed to the public today.” Minho said as they reached the front doors. “I thought yesterday that maybe you and your aunt and uncle might like talking to one of the curators, but I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with my poor memory as a substitute today.” 

Minho punched in some numbers on a key code panel on the wall and when it beeped, held the heavy front door open for Jisung. He gestured to the entryway with a sweep of his arm and a little bow. “Right this way, sir.”

They walked down a short hallway that opened up to an open circular atrium with two symmetrical marble staircases curved behind them and up to a second floor balcony that overlooked the atrium. The security guard at the information desk immediately recognized Minho and stood to bow and shake his hand. They spoke with each other for a few moments and Jisung took in more of his surroundings. Directly above them was a glittering chandelier, well lit with the sun cascading through windows high above them. Minho beckoned him to the left side of the atrium that led to a long hallway with doors on either side.

”This side has the galleries and the library, the other side has offices and community spaces for workshops and classes,” Minho explained.

They drifted from room to room. Jisung lingered in front of the pieces that really captivated him and Minho let him go on and on with profuse critiques and praises. He caught Minho watching him during one such monologue, smiling like Jisung was being extremely clever, and Minho made no effort to hide it when he noticed. It gave him more butterflies, as if he wasn’t already flustered enough. If Minho was trying to flirt with him via art critique, it was working.

Jisung dated men before whose relationship to art had fallen on the extremes. They either had zero interest, or were too deep in it and they would get too competitive with each other. Minho lived right in the middle of that. He was knowledgeable enough that he easily followed what Jisung was saying, never struggled to keep up, and sometimes added his own thoughts, but Minho never overwhelmed him with a differing opinion just for the sake of being contrary. Unless it was for a joke to make Jisung laugh. The cold empty galleries didn’t feel cold at all with Minho by his side.

Minho would occasionally tell him what the rooms used to be when it was his childhood home. It painted a much clearer picture of how lonely it must have been to be a small child in such a large house. 

They paused the tour in the sculpture courtyard, housed in a large round solarium at the back of the house. The bright sunshine coming through the glass ceiling made for the perfect temptation for Jisung to draw something. He’d brought his sketchbook with him for this very reason and sat on a stone bench next to an enormous monstera plant. There were several plaster replicas of famous sculptures hidden in between the many potted plants that lived there. The one Jisung chose to draw was a half scale replica of The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa by Gian Lorenzo Bernini. Jisung hoped someday he’d actually be able to go to Italy to see the museums there. Minho ended up taking a work call while Jisung drew, but they eventually moved on to the galleries on the second floor where the ceilings were higher and displayed larger canvases.

In one of the historical rooms, they invented ridiculous backstories for some very solemn portraits and Jisung was more grateful than ever that they were alone and didn’t have to apologize to any patrons for their raucous bouts of laughter. 

“Wow, even King Sejong,” Jisung pointed out after reading the placard for yet another traditional portrait that was donated by the Lee Family. “Is he here cause you’re related or something?” Jisung joked.

“Our family is part of the Jeonju Yi clan,” Minho replied simply.

Jisung snorted. “Ah, so you really are the Crown Prince of Joseon?”

Minho was silent and just stared at the painting with pursed lips.

“Wait. No. Seriously??” Jisung gawked.

Minho turned and looked very soberly at Jisung. Jisung’s eyes grew wider and wider as the seconds ticked by, but Minho couldn’t hold a straight face for very long and he snorted into a laugh. 

Jisung punched his shoulder in revenge. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Yes, I’m fucking with you.”

“Stop laughing.” Jisung lightly punched his arm again as some color rose to his cheeks.

“The look on your face was worth it though,” Minho said.

“You know usually I’m the one who gets to say ‘I’m fucking with you’ it’s unfair that you’re stealing my bit,” Jisung complained.

”You’ll just have to be a bit quicker and a little less gullible then, won’t you?”

”Or you could let me have it.”

”But where’s the fun in that?” There was a pause as Minho considered Jisung. “Maybe I can make an exception…every once and a while.”

“You’ve been making exceptions for me a lot lately. Does that mean I’m special?

Minho leaned a little closer and murmured, “Maybe.”

Jisung couldn’t maintain eye contact for long without his face becoming even more red than it already was. Thankfully, Minho had mercy on him and turned his attention back on the painting.

“We actually are a part of that clan. I’m sure my father wrote it down somewhere, how many cousins removed we are from the present-day direct descendant. But it’s so much effort to keep track of that stuff, and for what? Bragging rights for being born?”

Minho marched out of the room and into the hallway. Jisung followed hot on his heels. 

“Are you sure you’re the same Lee Minho I knew in Busan?” Jisung pestered him. “Maybe he got abducted by aliens, because I could have sworn I’d heard something very different come out of your mouth only a few months ago.”

“And I might have still been that person if it weren’t for you,” Minho replied simply. Jisung could barely keep his smile to himself.

If you had asked Jisung, he probably would have said only a couple of hours had passed, but in reality, it was more like four or five, he was just that absorbed by their activities. 

The oil painting they now stood in front of was partially abstract, the shapes made with wide brushstrokes across the canvas, but there was no doubt in Jisung’s mind what they were looking at. He couldn’t entirely tell the genders of the two nude figures who were depicted in a close embrace, but that hardly mattered. The slightly shorter person had their arms around their lover’s neck and shoulders, with their head thrown back, giving access for their own neck to be kissed. The slightly taller person had their arms wrapped tightly around their lover's torso, their head buried in their neck, and a hand firmly gripping their lover’s ass.

Jisung felt very affected by the scene. Maybe he wouldn’t in a different scenario, if Minho had been showing him the collection during regular business hours with other patrons nearby. But instead he was getting a private tour by this particular someone who had taken over his every waking thought. In that moment, Jisung was struck with the idea that the only person he wanted to embrace like this was the very man standing next to him. He felt like his imagination was ready to run wild with it, thinking through how real of a possibility it could be. Jisung felt goosebumps spread from the back of his neck, down his arms, and all the way to his toes.

Don’t be afraid of what’s in your heart.

Was this what was in his heart? 

They were standing close enough that when Jisung nervously shifted his weight onto his other foot, their hands accidentally brushed against each other. He stilled and let his hand stay there, lightly pressing their shoulders together. Minho didn’t try to move away either. It was merely the backs of their hands barely touching, but the tension felt thick and hot, like the earth itself was holding its breath before it burst open. Jisung reached a pinkie finger out and hooked it around Minho’s own. He heard Minho suck in a quick breath and then slowly release, his shoulder rising and falling with it. They stayed there for a moment, until Minho let go and reached around to hold Jisung’s hand instead, fully interlocking their fingers. 

Jisung slowly turned his head towards the man holding his hand. Minho’s ears were tinged pink and he was staring at the floor in front of him. Maybe his tour guide had a rampaging storm of thoughts and feelings similar to his own.

“We still have one more room to look at,” Minho murmured. 

Almost as quickly as he had grasped onto him, Minho let go again and took a couple of purposeful steps towards the door, but Jisung held on firmly. It forced Minho to turn so they stood facing each other, their entangled hands hung over the chasm between them. Minho’s face had gone a little cold, but Jisung saw it differently than he ever had before. Raw and uncertain fear sat just beneath the surface. 

“It’s okay.” Step by step, Jisung slowly closed the distance until they were within whispering distance. He might have even been able to count his eyelashes. Jisung squeezed his hand just a little tighter. 

“Not just accidental flirting?” Minho licked his lips and pursed them together. 

So that’s what he thought was happening? Jisung was somehow relieved to know, but sad at the same time, that Minho had latched onto that one detail from their honest conversation the night before. But it was a thought that was rooted in their past, not their present.

Jisung was finally being candid with himself about his own feelings and he felt like he hadn’t misinterpreted anything from Minho either. The flirtations had kept getting bolder, but now that they were actually holding hands, Minho was hesitating. Jisung would just have to hold onto the courage to take a leap for both of them. 

“Not anymore.” Jisung spoke quietly and breathily. 

Minho's eyes roamed over his face, then he slowly reached with his other hand and rested it against the side of Jisung’s neck, his thumb stroking gently at the curve of his jawline. The fire inside Jisung burned brighter with the soft gesture. They drew ever closer until they were nearly nose to nose and Jisung let his eyes slide shut.

A sudden noise startled them both and they sprung apart. Minho’s phone felt far too loud in the quiet room. He pulled it out of his pocket to silence the ringtone, but his face fell when he saw the caller ID.

“It’s the production office,” Minho scrunched his nose, then heaved a short guttural sigh. “I should take this. The next room is to the right, if you want to go on ahead, I’ll only be a minute. Is that okay?”

Minho looked so regretful and so apologetic for the interruption, it was almost cute. How could he say no? Jisung nodded.

”Thank you,” Minho said and then answered the call in a very curt tone as he walked out of the room and into the hall. 

Jisung stared after him, the longing in his chest pulled at him like a rubber band that stretched in Minho’s direction. Jisung made his own frustrated noise at the ceiling. He replayed what just happened, or rather what didn’t happen, in his mind, while his feet seemed to automatically carry him on as Minho had directed.

Jisung was a few steps into the new room when he finally looked around him and took in the space. He slowly turned in a circle and gasped at seeing something so improbable, near impossible, that he would never have expected it, never in his wildest dreams.

How the fuck does Lee Minho have this painting?