In the debate world, there are five unspoken rules. The first four are trivial; simple social laws that every sane person would understand.
But the last one. Now that's something.
Rule Number Five: Never, ever, under any circumstances, date your d...
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----- Intermission Two: Commencement -----
today's theme: considerations
"So you like him." Marcus chomped down on a piece of lettuce. "God, it took you a while."
Jisung nodded wordlessly, fixating his eyes on the meat grilling in front of them.
If there was one thing the new year had brought them, it was a streak of good weather. This Sunday afternoon had been blessed with a bright sky, the crisp cold air of winter settling on the City comfortably. People lined the streets, clamoring for their weekend events and leisurely moments before the busy rendezvous of their work lives started back up again.
It had been the perfect end to a winter break, with school starting tomorrow and Toronto creeping up in a week or so. And with Marcus back in town and in a constant state of despair now, it meant seating themselves in the corner of a barbecue shop, eating and ranting their feelings away.
After all, there was a lot to unpack.
A lot.
"One hundred percent now? No denial, completely yes, you hearty-heart-heart Minho Lee?"
"You don't need to paint it like that," Jisung complained. He picked up his cup of tea. "I just...kind of realized I did. All in a second."
"Still, though." Marcus's mouth formed a smirk. "Congratulations."
"Stop doing that."
"I'm not doing anything."
"You're giving me a 'told-you-so' look."
"Because I did!" He jabbed his chopsticks in the air, picking up a cooked mushroom. "I said it at the mall, at dance class, everywhere. I told you you liked him, didn't I? You oblivious shit!"
"I wasn't that blind," Jisung mumbled quietly. He dunked a piece of beef into his sauce plate, watching it drown in ponzu.
He didn't exactly know how to approach it. It had all come rushing into his head a week and a half ago, suspended miles in the air and watching bright lights explode against the air of a New Year. He admitted it, surrendered to it, accepted its fate and its outcomes.
He liked Minho. He kissed Minho. Minho liked him back, kissed him back.
More than anything, it was hard to process logically, with the way his emotions simply locked in each time.
The rules of the debate world would've called it a sin, a travesty and a complete moral disaster. His heart, though, the ever so imposing dictator of his mind, had all but aimed for it.
And Jisung liked it.
He liked the way his heart puttered around when they shared looks, where his embrace and his lips felt soft against his consciousness, and when he smiled, talked, and laughed. The endearing aftermaths of their interactions left him buzzing in paradise, a realm of surreality that swept away any reasoning he could've tried to hang onto.
