The Way You Stayed | MinSung FF

\#\7\#\

The city was alive that afternoon, sunlight spilling through the cracks of tall buildings, warming the chill of autumn air. The streets pulsed with the rhythm of people — voices weaving together, buskers playing at the corners, footsteps tapping across the crosswalks in every direction.

Minho walked among them with his tote bag slung over his shoulder, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his mind running in two different directions.

He'd just dropped Jeongin off at Felix and Changbin's. His best friends had grinned as Jeongin bounded into their arms, already demanding story time and snacks. Minho had smiled, but it had been a guilty smile. Tonight he'd be working late at the clothing store, and as always, he hated leaving Jeongin behind.

Still, he told himself, it was only for a few hours. Jeongin loved being with them.

With some time before his shift, Minho headed toward the grocery store. He needed to stock up on basics — milk, eggs, bread, maybe a few vegetables if the prices weren't too brutal. His thoughts circled around the list, but beneath it all, another name pressed at the back of his mind.

Jisung.

The tall boy with the soft grin. The one who had walked him and Jeongin home that night. The one Minho kept trying not to think about, and failing miserably.

Minho shook his head hard, as though he could rattle the thoughts loose. "Focus on groceries," he muttered under his breath. "Groceries, rent, shifts. Not hot boys."

He waited at the crosswalk with the crowd, the red hand glaring down at them. He adjusted his glasses, tugged his coat tighter around his body. The city air carried the scent of roasted chestnuts from a nearby vendor, and for a moment Minho let himself breathe it in.

Then the light changed. The crowd surged forward.

And fate decided to have a laugh.

⸻

Halfway across the street, someone bumped hard into Minho's side. He stumbled, his bag slipping, his balance teetering — until a steady hand caught his arm, holding him upright.

"Whoa there, careful."

Minho's head snapped up. His breath caught.

Jisung.

The tall boy stood in front of him, hoodie pulled up against the breeze, eyes widening with recognition.

"You—!" Minho stammered, fluster rising immediately. "What—why—"

Jisung blinked, then broke into a grin. "Well, hello again."

Minho's heart thudded. Of all the people to literally run into.

The crowd pressed around them, hurrying across the street. Jisung kept his hand on Minho's arm until they reached the other side. Only then did he let go, though the warmth lingered like a brand.

Minho straightened his glasses, trying to compose himself. "You really need to stop showing up everywhere I go," he muttered.

"Or maybe," Jisung said, grin teasing, "you keep showing up everywhere I go."

Minho flushed scarlet. "Ridiculous."

⸻

"So, where are you headed?" Jisung asked, easily slipping into step beside him.

Minho clutched his tote bag tighter. "The grocery store."

"Perfect," Jisung said. "I was just thinking about picking something up too. Mind if I tag along?"

Minho hesitated. Part of him wanted to say no, to retreat back into his careful bubble. But another part — the part that had been lonely for too long — wavered.