more than enough ; minsung

ever after

Jisung didn't stay for the afterparty. He'd had his fill of wedding day bliss and felt thoroughly socialized. He was surfing a sugar crash too.

All sorts of college friends and acquaintances shook his hand goodbye, and Sangkyu's mother gave him a bear hug. Soobin and Sangkyu waved from across the room where they were downing shots and tugging at their bowties.

Minho eventually met him outside, and they walked to the bus station together, processing in silence. Jisung appreciated the time to think. Well, he wouldn't have minded talking, but Minho didn't, so he didn't either. They said goodbye outside his apartment with a hug that tortured Jisung until the small hours of the morning.

His week is eerily normal. Eating and sleeping and working, no Minho, no newlyweds, no unexpected dance numbers. The wedding seemed like such a momentous event — and it was. Just for different reasons than expected.

He's on the bus, pretending to scroll his phone, when a text pops up. The contact is saved as a heart and a dancing emoji. Oh shit.

Hey, are you free? I have to show you something

Then an address across town.

Jisung was on his way home. But he scrambles off at the nearest stop and grabs a bus heading in the opposite direction.

The buildings shrink and the sun ducks behind the horizon. Jisung watches out the window, bees buzzing in his stomach. Minho could be leading him anywhere. He doesn't want to take any guesses or let his expectations fly too high. Just Minho texting him seems too good to be true.

Jisung gets off and wanders the street looking for the right address. He jolts to a stop at a storefront with a big grungy sign that reads CUSTOM ORTHOTICS. The windows are covered with black plastic, but the door is propped open by a ratty sneaker.

He peeks inside. Tall ceilings with exposed pipes, floors with threadbare carpeting and scattered debris, and in the middle of it all is Minho, kneeling and ripping up carpet. (Sleeveless, in an undershirt, which makes Jisung glitch for a solid five seconds.)

"Hey," says Jisung.

Minho looks over his shoulder. A smile dawns on his face.

He gets to his feet, brushing his hands off. "Well? What do you think?"

"Of...?"

"My new studio."

Jisung's jaw drops open. He marches up to Minho and shoves him. "Get the fuck out, really?"

"Day after the wedding, I met up with Soobin's business friend." He shrugs. "We hit it off."

"What are you going to do?"

Minho dives into an animated plan of action: "The desk over here is a waste of space, so I have some demo guys coming tomorrow. I'm thinking of getting lights that flash and change colour, that'd be cool, right? I have to get mirrors, blinds, a new sign, a good sound system, and clearly the carpet is at death's door, but the floor under it is really beautiful. God, I feel so lucky." He amends, "No, scratch that. Luck has nothing to do with it. This is all because of you."

Jisung fakes a modest pshaw. "It was nothing."

"It's everything to me. Thank you."

His voice is so earnest, his eyes are so soft — it makes Jisung want to say something stupid. Instead he says "No problem."

Minho smiles, hands in his pockets.

"So...," Jisung says to fill the silence. "People will be dancing here soon."