coincidental | minsung

14

"The fact that you met this arsehole and now you keep making rash decisions," growled Chan. 

Jisung expected Minho to argue back at the 'arsehole' comment; instead, he tilted his head slightly and looked thoughtfully at Chan. Looked at him, but stayed quiet. 

"Rash decisions? Go on, hyung, enlighten me," snapped Jisung.

"Getting drunk, for one thing. That's not like you. This, whatever it is you're doing now, also not like you. And the fact that you were literally crying because of him, like, two days ago." Chan's voice was level but there was still a redundant anger buried in it.

"I made you cry?" The first thing that made Minho falter. 

Jisung just shook his head and tried to send him a reassuring smile. Not you, you're not the problem here. 

Chan doubled down. 

"Yeah, you did. Tore him up real bad. But surely that's something you're familiar with, huh? Jisung might not know much about you, but that doesn't mean we don't. I've heard stories about you, Lee Minho, so forgive me if I'm not massively trusting right now."

The second thing that made Minho falter. His turn to bridle and for his facial expression to sour. 

"And what have you heard?" A new edge to his voice, one Jisung didn't recognise. 

"Can we stop this?" Jisung tried to interject. "This doesn't need to-"

"Song Eunha?" Chan's voice, again, controlled. 

Jisung stumbled slightly when Minho pushed roughly past him, down to the bottom of the stairs, stopping right in front of Chan. His shoulders were pulled tight and his fists clenched. Something dark had settled over his face; his eyes were narrowed, his jaw tense. 

"Say that again," Minho threatened. "Dare you. Try it."

"What, Song Eunha? Touch a nerve?" 

Chan wasn't backing down, instead matching Minho's stance. Even Changbin seemed all of a sudden nervous. Confused. This had taken a turn for the worse, and he was worried someone was going to start-

"Hey." A whisper, a light pressure on Minho's shoulder. Trembling fingers, shaking voice. 

It was unfamiliar to Minho. Conflict usually made him unreachable, his usual mild nature betraying him as soon as he felt angry. His temper; his biggest flaw. It often felt like the air in his lungs went stale, like every muscle went rigid and the blood in his body turned to stone. 

"Minho?" 

Softer, sweeter. Fresh air. Clarity. Minho blinked, long, slow, before he let himself relax into the fingers still gentle on his back. He took a step back and felt his spine curve softly into Jisung's chest. Every sense was him, so much as the lingering scent of cologne Jisung wore, and it was enough to pull Minho back from the ledge he had been leaning over. 

Chan and Changbin watched the storm on Minho's face pass. Changbin seemed... relieved? He himself had relaxed, had released the tension that was gathering in a knot between his shoulders. Chan, on the other hand, seemed even more pissed off.

"Make the same mistakes again, Jisung, I won't go easy on you," Chan snapped in Jisung's direction. 

With that, he was gone. Out the flat, the front door slamming behind him and making Jisung flinch. The movement reverberated against where Minho was still pressed against him. One hand snaked down to take Jisung's, to wrap fingers around his and squeeze his palm. 

"Jisungie-" Changbin started. His voice had taken on an apologetic tone.

"Don't." Jisung's voice was final. 

The youngest turned away from Minho and stormed back up to his room, not even checking to see if Minho had followed him. If he had checked he would've seen Minho still stood at the bottom of the staircase with Changbin. If he hadn't slammed his bedroom door shut, exactly as Chan had, he would've heard the conversation between Changbin and Minho.

"Help me understand?" Minho's voice, no arrogance, just confusion. 

Changbin, trying to thread a sentence together in his swirling head. "I don't know what Chan was talking about. But I know Jisung, and that's why I don't think... Minho, are you good for him?" 

"Am I good for anyone?" 

"Then why does it have to be him?" 

Changbin's question ran in rings around Minho's head, even after the younger had left, heading into the living room and closing the door behind him. Closed doors seemed to be a big thing in this flat. Minho couldn't stop asking himself. 

Why does it have to be him? 

And even then, even so soon, he knew. 

It couldn't be anyone else.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•

:( my minsung i luv them one thing i WILL NOT DO is seperate them so if that is the kind of angst ur looking at... bye ! hehe sorry for poor sched and short chapter, more based on backstory, but will hopefully be back with some better chapters soooooon once my schoolwork has stopped sodomozing me~~