Chapter Text
Not leaving his side for a second, Minho held on tight to Jisung the entire time. Jisungs breathing eventually calmed down and exhausted from the mental and physical strain he feel asleep in Minhos arms. They had moved from the floor to the couch at that point, but Minhos arms were still firmly wrapped around him. Holding him.
When he woke up again the embarrassment flooded his brain. Of course Minho knew that Jisungs mental state wasn't good, but knowing that and witnessing it were two different pair of shoes.
He expected to see at least a little judgment in his eyes when he looked him in the face. But he wasn't judging, all he could see was how concerned he was. And if he didn't know better, he'd say he saw something like endearment or fondness. But that didn't make any sense, cause no one would look at him like that. Not after showing just how messed up he really was.
"Do you wanna talk about it?", Minho asked.
Did he? Could he? What would he say? Oh, it's because of the laundry, you know?! That would sound even more insane.
So he slowly shook his head, "No, I don't think so". Then he looked at Minho, really looked at him and then over to the apartment door, "How did you get inside?".
A grin appeared on Minhos beautiful face. They weren't cuddling anymore, which was a shame, cause it had felt good to lay in those strong arms. But Minhos hand was still resting in Jisungs thigh and his entire body was faced towards him. He wasn't just there, he was engaged. "Would you believe me when I say I climbed up the wine on the facade like Romeo and came through the open window?".
With wide open eyes Jisung turned towards the very closed window and then looked back at Minho with an raised eyebrow.
"I closed it afterwards".
"Liar", Jisung yelled out and slapped Minhos bicep. A tiny grin lifting up the corners of his mouth.
"I just wanted to make you smile again. You're so pretty when you smile".
Jisungs heart stopped for a few beats, trying to process the said. He wanted to cry because nothing in him could believe that someone would find him pretty right now, no matter the smile. His hair was starting to get greasy again, his skin was pale and his eyes probably red from all the crying. He felt puffy and gross, his lips torn and his cheeks full of salt from the tears.
He wasn't pretty, especially not right now. But the way Minho looked at him… as if he meant what he said.
"Reality is less cool I fear", he came clean, "I remembered that you told me that your neighbour has a key for emergencies and when you didn't open the door nor answered the phone… I hope that was OK?".
He cared.
He cared enough to find a way to get to him.
Jisungs eyes filled with tears, but even though his eyes were burning and sensitive, these tears didn't feel as heavy or hurtful as the previous ones. These weren't hateful tears, but tears of disbelief and happiness. Because somebody cared. Somebody actually cared about him.
With a little slur in his speech, Jisung answered, "No, no that's… totally… fine!". His eyes plastered on Minhos face in disbelieve.
"Good! Cause either way, I would do it again", Minho said, while lifting up Pudding on his chest. Both were just sitting there for a moment, slouched into the couch, caught up in their own thoughts. After a while Minho turned towards Jisung again, "Are you hungry? You must be hungry!", he sat up a little, "I didn't bring any food today, but eeehh… what do you want? I can make it for you?".
"Oh that's… OK… I- You don't need to make me something, we can just… order-".
"No, no, I wanna make us something! Tell me what you want and I'll make it. I just need to go shopping real quick".
A cold shiver overcame Jisung, "Don't leave me", he whispered. His lower lip pushed forward.
Minho grabbed Jisungs hand, "Oh no, I am not leaving you! Mhh… why don't you just come with me? A little fresh air would maybe… you know… clear your head a little". Everything in Jisungs body told him not to move, not to go outside, because it was scary out there and his legs were still a little shaky and his eyes red. But Minho looked so excited and his warm fingers around his cold hands felt so strong and reassuring.
"I look like a mess", Jisung whined.
"A cute mess, though", without thinking Minho lifted his hand as if he wanted to pat Jisungs head, but in the last second he pulled away again, instead he grabbed his hand again and pulled Jisung up from the couch, "Come on, let's make you ready to go out".
Under Minhos relentless watch, the kitten on his arm, patting her as if he was a mafia boss, Jisung washed his face, changed into some clean clothes, drank a huge sip of water and put on some shoes and his winter jacket. With a cute, little smile Minho stopped Jisung before walking over to the door and placed a pair of sunglasses on his nose, "Just so can feel a little safer".
In an instance Jisungs heart melted. Dripping on the floor. Creating a puddle to his feet.
And then, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to do, Minho took Jisungs hand, intertwined their fingers and pulled him with him out the door. Looking back at the imaginary heart-puddle, it all went down too fast that he couldn't even overthink going outside. He hadn't had the time to freak out, to picture every possible horrible scenario that could happen out there. Every step from getting up from the couch till now, outside the building, he was there right beside him. Minho was there. He hadn't even said much and it didn't feel like pressure. More like a security blanket.
Minho wasn't there to control him, but to watch out for him, to hold his hand if needed, to encourage him.
For a while they just walked close next to each other, still holding hands. The cold winter air creeping into every exposed pore. He dug his nose into the collar of his jacket, his hair dangling in front of his eyes, his sight glued to the ground. As warm as Minhos hands were, his fingertips were still freezing, being exposed to the cold wind. But he'd rather let his fingers freeze than letting go of the hand that single-handedly kept him sane right now.
His other hand was shoved deep into his pocket, playing with an old candy wrapper he always forgot to actually throw out. Not watching where they were actually going he let himself get guided by Minho.
"Are you cold?", he asked Jisung, after a shiver ran down his entire body.
"Oh, only…", he looked down at their intertwined fingers and then into Minhos eyes, that were following his every movement, "Only my ears a little". With a knowing smirk, Minho let go of Jisung hand and pulled Jisungs hood over his head, "This should do the trick". Suddenly the other was so close, that he almost forgot about his now extremely cold hand, just dangling besides his body.
This meant nothing, he tried to tell himself. Minho was just looking out for him, because he knew that Jisung wasn't doing well right now. As a friend. A friend caring for another friend. This was totally normal. This had to be totally normal, because he wasn't sure he could handle anything more right now.
He also tried to convince himself of that, when the warm fingers reached out for him again, slung around his and carried his hand into Minhos pocket. They weren't just holding hands again. They were holding hands in Minhos pocket and the only thing Jisung allowed himself to think was, that this was indeed totally normal to do with friends. He personally had never done that before with a friend, but that didn't mean it couldn't still be true.
It was also totally normal to feel butterflies in his stomach right now. There were many reasons for that, one being that he was emotionally confused because of the panic attack he just had an hour ago. Or simply because he was hungry.
Totally normal.
Later that evening, Jisung was sitting in the kitchen doing nothing but cuddle with Pudding while Minho was cooking their dinner. He didn't know, that he liked to cook, but he looked amazing doing so. Every so often Minho turned around to Jisung with a shy grin on his face. A few weeks he didn't even know this man existed and now he was in his kitchen cooking for him. Part of Jisung was worried, that he was just dreaming a very long dream and he would wake up one day, realising that this wasn't real. That Minho wasn't real.
Whispering into Pudding ear, "This is really happening, right?", his ears turned red when he realised, that Minho heard him and turned around. "Would be a shame if it weren't", he replied in a husked voice, then turned back to the stove and Jisung couldn't do other than stare at that mans broad back and shoulders.
They ate on the couch while watching an anime and Jisung couldn't stop himself from complimenting the dish after every bite he took. He, himself was a helpless chef, barely capable of doing the easiest dishes, but Minho apparently had a real talent. An image of this becoming a regular thing between them popped up in Jisung head and made his cheeks flush with hopeful excitement. He really could get used to it. Actually, he already did. Just thinking about this strange routine they build ending any time, hurt his fragile heart. In just this short period of time he got so used to Minhos presence, he didn't want him to leave. Ever.
Putting their bowls down, Minho turned down the volume of the TV and faced towards Jisungs, "Can I ask you something?".
His heart started to race, scared of what was coming next. Slowly nodding, his fingers automatically searched for the hem of his hoodie and started playing with it.
"How can I help you?".
Jisungs eyes got big, he stuttered, "W-what?".
Nervous, Minho scratched the back of his head, "I… I want to help you, but I don't know really how… I don't want to pressure you into anything and… I don't know… seeing you today… I have no clue what you're going through and I have no right to ask you to tell me- though you can! But like… what can I do to help you?"
"Oh!", was everything Jisung could say out loud, cause his thoughts were already racing through his brain, throwing all available emotions at him. Overwhelmed by his own mind, he froze.
"I'm sorry, ignore me. That was too much. I-", Minho stuttered unusually nervous.
How could Jisung tell him that he wasn't frozen because Minho was too much, but because he didn't know how to deal with that all. Because he didn't know how to handle this much care. Because he wasn't used to it. Because this question alone was more than he ever dared to dream of. He didn't allow himself to wish for this much care, cause the realisation that it wouldn't come true, would hurt too much. Because he didn't think that he deserved it. Because his brain told him time and time again, that all the suffering he was going through, was because he didn't deserve better.
How could he tell Minho that he was scared that he wasn't real.
"No! No… I- Thank you!", Jisung mumbled, reaching for Minhos hand before he could stop himself from doing so.
"Thank you?", Minho asked.
Jisung swayed his head, playing with Minhos fingers, "hmmm… for caring? For asking… for being here…".
"Oh, of course! Obviously", Minho exclaimed with a confidence that made it seem like it was the most normal thing in the world. But it wasn't, not to Jisung. And especially not under these circumstances. Almost not noticeable he shook his head, "No, but it's not obvious. I can't put into words what it means to me that you're here, like… think about it… there is no logical reason for you to be here. I am a stranger to you, you don't know me. I don't know why you're here, but-".
"You want me to leave?", Minho asked, cutting him off.
"NO!", Jisung exclaimed, panic rising inside him, "Please, don't leave!". With tears forming in his eyes, he dared to look up at Minho. And right then Jisung realised, that the man in front of him had no intentions of leaving. He couldn't say what sparked the realisation, but something about the way Minho sat there, his hand in Jisung, allowing him to play with it, his eyes soft, his entire body turned towards him, signalling, that he was listening. Staying.
Minho moved a little closer, "Let me help you".
Something inside Jisung broke. He cared. He wanted to help. He wasn't leaving.
"I don't know… it's just all… too much. Life… it's just too hard. I don't know how people do it… how I used to do it. You know… I used to function! I used to go out and… be OK. I was always a little… off, but I was OK, I could cope, I could enjoy things, I wasn't… thinking so much… well, maybe I was, I don't know, but I could handle it. I was OK once, you know?! I could do things…".
"You can still do things, you know?".
Jisung shook his head again, "No, not like I used to. Now everything is so… heavy? I think so much about things that I have no energy left to actually do them. It's like my brain is fight against itself. Logically I know that nothing bad is going to happen, that everything is OK, that I could do… anything. But then my brain… convinces me, that I can't and my body turns into this giant, heavy blob, that can't move anymore".
Jisung paused for a long time, scared to say more, to expose his heart fully. But Minho didn't pressure him, he just sat there, looking at him, with this soft and warm look in his eyes.
"It's not like I really want to die, but sometimes… I don't know… I wish I weren't alive, because it's so hard. It's so exhausting even thought I am not even doing anything… I'm just…".
"Existing", Minho chimed in, "From where I stand, that's all I need you to do for now. Exist. You're too important not to exist!".
"But am I though?", Jisung asked before he could stop himself. With the hand Jisung wasn't playing with, Minho grabbed his chin and made Jisung look at him, "You are important to me! And I am sure also to other people. I saw your friends message you, they wouldn't do that, if you weren't important. You matter to people!".
Part of Jisung knew, that Minho was right, but it was hard to actually believe it.
A single tear rolled down Jisung cheek and Minhos thumb whipped it away with a smooth motion.
"I guess me simply saying that you do actually matter, won't really change anything, will it?", a tiny half-sided smile appeared on Minhos face and Jisung couldn't help but return it, "Probably not…".
"I'll do it anyway", Minho muttered playfully, but then got serious again, "Have you considered therapy?".
Jisung let himself fall back into the couch, not letting go of Minhos hand, "Yes, of course… but for someone struggling to do even the most basic tasks it's rudely hard to find the strength to actually find therapy".
"It could really help you…".
"I know… It's not that I am scared of going to therapy itself, but the process to find some… the research, the calls, the rejections, the first appointment, needing to explain yourself in less than an hour in the hopes, that you're broken enough that they'll find a way to take you in…".
Scared about how real this conversation got, Jisungs heart started to race in his chest. He meant what he said, he wanted therapy, he wasn't scared of therapy itself, but all the steps to get there seemed… too big to climb. Furthermore, no matter how much he struggled with his current situation, he had gotten comfortable being like this. He got used to it, he knew what to expect from his days. Not matter how bad he wanted to get better, actually doing the steps seriously scared him. What if he failed? What if he couldn't do it? What if he simply wasn't made to actually live his life?
He wanted to get better, he really did, but he was scared to death. This dark hole he was living in was at least known territory.
"Well this is something I can at least actually help you with!", Minho let out excited.
"Hmm?".
Just like Jisung did before, Minho let himself fall back against the backrest, "I can help you look for therapists and message them for you and hold your hand when you call them or just call them myself", satisfied with himself, Minho nodded, "Yes, I can do that!".
Taken aback, Jisung stared at the man that was still a stranger to him a few weeks ago, and simply couldn't believe it. Minho hadn't just helped him through a panic attack and looked after him afterwards, he wasn't just… there. He wasn't just offering his help to be polite, he seemed genuinely excited to have found something he could actually do to help Jisung. To do for him and with him. To hold his hand through it all and not just watch from the sidelines.
"Actually, I can just-", he got his phone out and opened the search bar, when Jisung placed his hand on the screen and made Minho lower the phone again, "Not now, OK? It's been a long day and I just want to-". Jisungs gaze wandered over Minhos shoulder for a second, wanting to rest against it, cuddle up with Minho and just be for a moment, but he wasn't brave enough to admit that. Instead he pointed at the TV, whispering ashamed, "watch the anime".
He could feel Minhos eyes on him, watching him, but he didn't dare to take his eyes from the screen, already overwhelmed by the conversation and Minhos determination of being there for him. While he tried to seem nonchalant and calm, he had to hold back his tears. The inside of his brain equalling a busy highway, transferring the wildest and most chaotic thoughts from one side to the other, too fast to actually catch them, just glimpses and flashes of emotions and thoughts.
A softly whispered, "OK", reached Jisungs ear and he could feel Minho shift his position, moving closer towards Jisung, wrapping his arm around Jisungs shoulders, tugging him a little closer. Signalling, that it was OK for him to rest his head against Minho. Giving up the inner fight, accepting, that he already shown Minho all his weakness and he didn't need to play it cool any further, he leaned his head against the strong shoulder.
It took him several minutes to fully lean into in, to let go and relax, but once he did, a strong feeling of peace filled his body and brain that he hadn't felt in a long time.
Since the day Jisung had his panic attack something had shifted between them and the safe distance they'd kept before was gone. He couldn't say what they were, but it was definetely apparent, that they weren't strangers anymore. The day of, Jisung felt so save next to Minho and in his arms that he hadn't just snuggled up in his lap at some point, but even fell asleep and ended up spending the entire night pressed against Minhos chest.
When he woke up the next morning, Minhos arm loosely hanging over his waist, two thoughts immediately flooded his brain. Whatever this was, this was the best thing he ever had and the couch is not half as comfortable as he thought it might be. Despite that, it was the best sleep he had for a while.
Feeling Minhos breath tickling his neck, feeling his chest lightly rise and fall against his back, was everything he needed just that moment. It scared him to think of them as anything, but strangers that kind of became friends, because of a weird situation. But for the moment he tried for once to not overthink it and just take it as what it was. Calming and Sweet.
Nothing really happened between them, but they got a lot closer in a lot of ways. Most noticeably they got physically closer, holding hands, cuddling on the couch and from that day on, Jisung couldn't let Minho sleep on the couch any longer. At first it was weird getting into bed together, but as soon as they were laying in it they started talking and shared fun stories from their childhood and broke the weird tension that way. Usually they didn't cuddle to fall asleep, but somehow they always ended up tangled up in each other the next morning. There was hardly anything cuter than Minhos peaceful face to wake up next to.
Minho seemed to have a sixth sense for Jisungs mood, cause especially at night, when his thought started to spiral and were trying to pull him deep into a dark hole, Minho always noticed, even mid sleep. In those moments he wrapped his arm around Jisungs waist and pulled him close against his chest, whispering into his ear, that he wasn't alone.
His heart melted every single time.
But no matter how much Jisung enjoyed the time he got to spend with Minho, he was also glad that he had time to himself, when he was at work. After all he was still an extreme introvert and needed time to himself to recharge, though he was genuinely surprised how little Minhos presence drained him.
When Minho came over, now a proud owner of his own set of keys, he never judged Jisung, when he didn't manage to do the tasks for the day, but helped him do them together. He also held his word and researched different types of therapy and therapists in the area, when he had some downtime at work and then went over them together with Jisung. Together with Minho, he managed to actually call some therapists, but for most even the waiting-lists were already closed.
No matter how good it felt that he managed to do some calls, the devastation of still not finding anything overcame him every time. He then threw his phone away, turned away from Minho and just stared into the void. Pretty quickly Minho had learned to just leave him be for the moment. The only one allowed to touch him then was Pudding. And instead of feeling insecure about it, Jisung had noticed that Minho then called the kitten over and signalled her to comfort Jisung, if she wasn't there already anyway.
After a while Jisung then let out a big sigh, "I hate this", and then they silently agreed to stop the therapy-hunt for the day.
After one of these moments they discovered, that they loved watching horror movies together. Though watching might be a stretched word in case of Jisung, who spend most of the movie tugged away behind Minhos back or his face buried into his chest. Both didn't seem to mind this minor detail, though.
"You can look again, there is nothing bad happening right now", Minho chuckled.
Jisung slowly lifted his head up, his hands still covering his eyes, "You sure? The music still sounds very… mysterious".
"It's broad daylight there, nothing bad happens in broad daylight, everyone knows that".
Half-convinced Jisung lowered his hand and peeked at the screen and it indeed seemed not too bad. "You know, this movie isn't even that bad. The effects seem a little cheap", Jisung let out, relaxing his shoulders. Just in that moment, as if to prove how foolish Jisung sounded, a jump-scare in the movie literally made Jisung physically jump out his seat and fall on his knees to the floor, theatrically whining, "You said it was safe to look, cause nothing bad happens during daytime!".
Half rolling from the couch out of laughter, Minho huffed between laughs, "You just said this movie wasn't even that scary".
Looking at Minho with his big, round boba-eyes, pouting, he mumbled, "Well… you said it was safe to watch!". Still laughing, Minho sat up again and waved Jisung over to him, "Come here, get up you little mouse". Jisung could still fell Minhos suppressed laughter due to his vibrating chest against his back. But he didn't mind, not with his arms slung tightly around his waist.
As comfortable as he was nowadays around Minho, he couldn't help but notice a nervous tingle in his stomach when he was this close to him. Feeling the beat of Minhos heart, made it hard to concentrate any further on the movie on the screen. All he could think about Minhos breathing, his little chuckles when Jisung flinched a little, his warm skin against his own, where his hoodie had risen up.
When the movie ended he was so lulled in by the body underneath him, that he wasn't capable, or rather willing, to move in any capacity, so Minho ended up carrying him into the bedroom, carefully tugging him into his soft blanket.
If not already before, this was the moment Jisung finally realised, that no matter how much he tried to ignore it, he definetely had feelings for this guy, that they were way above anything close to friendship. This wasn't just anything. This wasn't just a fleeting moment. He had no idea what exactly this was just yet, but he knew for sure, that he wouldn't let this man leave him ever again.
The next day, while Minho was at work, Jisung got his guitar out, which he hadn't touched in a too long time. Music used to be his everything, but then something changed. He wasn't able to bring his feelings out in his songs anymore, because everything he wrote and played broke him. At some point he was scared of his guitar and pen, of the emotions it would awake inside him. Scared that he would cut too deep.
But this day he finally dared to go back to his roots. He allowed himself to actually feel again. Pudding as his audience leaned her head against his thigh, purring in comfort.
Melodies and song lines flooded his head and he rediscovered his joy of finding the right rhythm for the right words. As emotional as the words appearing on his notebook were, they were hopeful and full of love, rather than tearing him apart.
He hadn't even notice the time pass by, when suddenly Minho was standing in the doorframe, a bag with takeaway food in his hand, mouth open in amazement. With an intense stare he slowly moved in closer to Jisung, blindly placing the bag with food on the sideboard beside him, and sat down in front of Jisung on the floor. Jisungs fingers slipped for an accord, but he caught himself and continued playing.
Closing his eyes, he let himself fully fall into the song, feel it, give it life. His voice was a little shaky, but that was OK, this didn't need to be perfect, because nothing really was and if one person had shown him this, allowed him to not be perfect, it was this man sitting right in front of him.
With the security of his guitar he let it all out, laid his heart in front of Minho, made himself vulnerable. But he trusted Minho, he trusted him to treat his open heart with the care and love Jisung couldn't bring up himself.
The last accord faded into silence and just then did Jisung realise that the was silently crying. With a shy smile he dared to open his eyes again and looked into Minhos big and shiny eyes. There was no playful smile on Minhos face, the was no joke about to break the tension. There were just the two of them, sitting in front of each other, staring into each others souls, lips slightly apart, hearts racing.
This wasn't nothing. This was everything.
Carefully, Minho moved closer, taking the guitar and putting it aside, getting rid of anything between them, all without breaking eye-contact. On his knees, right in front of Jisung, Minho said with a husk and dark tone in his voice, "I didn't know you could sing like this". He visibly swallowed, "I don't think I know this song".
Hypnotised by Minhos intense stare, Jisung mumbled, "I wrote it", he paused for a second, not sure if he was ready to admit that he wrote this song for him. About him. With him in mind for every single second since he picked up that guitar. That he was the one, that made him less scared about feeling something again. That he made him feel safe enough to actually feel himself again, all of it, the pain and the joy. That he didn't fix him, but helped him to see, that he actually wanted to be fixed.
He didn't say this, not out loud. But he didn't need to.
Minhos face was leaning closer towards him, wiping away all the thought in Jisungs mind and all he could think were these full and beautiful lip right before him.
Their noses almost touched, both breathing heavily, the tension tingling between them. "Can I kiss you?", Minho asked almost inaudible, his finger lightly brushing against Jisungs bottom lip. Instead of an answer, because he wasn't capable of bringing out any words right now, Jisung closed the little distance left between them and melted into Minhos soft lips. Heat rose through his body, when he felt Minhos hands cupping his face, holding him, puling him closer.
Because that is what Minho had done since the first moment they met; he was there, holding him, guiding him, giving him the space he needed without ever leaving him. He didn't know a whole lot that moment, but he knew that he loved this man. And as hard as it was for him to believe, that man right in his arms, with the crocket smile and relentless willpower, loved him as well.
Jisung had no idea if fate existed, but if it did, this was just that: fate.