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"Mr. Bang" was on Minho's personal shit list. Over the following month, Minho and Jisung slowly began to talk just slightly more. Lunch breaks, chatting for a few minutes over coffee before heading back to their offices- they were getting somewhere. But this "Christopher Bang" was always coming to or calling Jisung's office and personal phone, and Minho had no idea why.
As an executive, himself, he figured he would be privy to some sort of information about the man- but he wasn't. No one had answers for him about who he was, including Jisung's assistant.
He'd meant to just ask Jisung directly, but never found the right time to inquire without it sounding awkward. Minho also had a tendency to severely overthink, when it came to the younger. He had found that out when he had spent days working up the courage to ask if Jisung just wanted to carpool to and from work, and the boy had shrugged, saying "Sure," without a second thought.
He just wanted Jisung to be comfortable with him- he didn't want to push the latter's boundaries or make him feel obligated to do anything just because he knew Jisung's "secret-" which they still had not discussed. The more time he spent with Jisung, the more these feelings and concerns amplified.
His inner frustration was brought to the surface when they were walking out to Jisung's car after a late night of work. His car was the only one left in the VIP parking lot level. Minho desperately tried not to show his excitement over the fact that Jisung was walking just a little closer to him- close enough for their arms to brush against each other during a few of their perfectly-synced steps.
Needless to say, when Jisung's phone started ringing, Minho had to hold back a small scowl of disappointment as the latter motioned that he would need a moment alone, and began creating distance between them as he answered.
Minho didn't want- or care- to listen until,
"Chris? Yeah, what's up? ...Ah, yes. I'm okay. Still nothing to be too worried about. Just some fatigue and discomfort here and there... Sure, yeah, I can come see you on Friday after work... Alone? Are you sure that's smart? ...I guess... Yeah, I trust you. It's fine... Thanks for always checking up on me... Yup. Friday around 6:30. See you then."
He hung up his phone and waltzed back over to Minho. "Sorry about that. You still ready to go?"
Minho stared at him somewhat blankly, trying to sort the thoughts floating around in his head at a rapid pace. Who is Christopher? Why do you need to see him Friday after work? Why does he always visit or call you? Why did you ask if it's smart to meet alone- are you safe? Why did you have to clarify that you trust him?
Why can't I be someone you can open up to?
"No worries. I'm ready."
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Three months.
Jisung had been pining after Minho as silently as he could for three months, once he realized that it wasn't just a sexual, physical, or hormonal omega response- he really liked Minho. They had started talking more after that day in the office, almost six months prior, and it took nearly three months for him to stop denying what he felt to himself.
It was getting increasingly difficult, watching as the older tried to get closer and closer to him. He so badly wanted to give in. He wanted to cave- sit curled up next Minho and tell him everything, be able to talk to someone who wasn't Christopher-fucking-Bang about it. Let him in and see where things take them.
But he knew better.
There were several things that could be happening on Minho's end- none of which Jisung wanted to ask for clarification on. Minho could just be being friendly, with no other expectations or desire for more. Or, he could just be a stupid fucking alpha who feels the need to protect him.
Alphas doing alpha things.
There was also the small chance that he liked Jisung back, but Jisung didn't want to dwell too long on the thought of that possibility. As he'd established, nothing could come of it anyway. Even if Minho was funny, kind, sweet, and very honest. He was always willing to open up to Jisung, even when the latter couldn't return it.
He rolled his shoulders and sighed after he'd finished brushing his teeth. It was mentally exhausting waking up to the same demonizing thought process every morning. He quickly shook it off and took the elevator downstairs before his mother could wake up, heading to Minho's door and rapping his fist against solid wood.
In mere moments, Minho opened the door with tired eyes, obviously having slept in later than normal. Part of his shirt was untucked and visible through his suit jacket, his tie was crooked, and his hair was just slightly disheveled.
Jisung paired another sigh with a soft chuckle and stepped forward, not hesitating to reach over and tuck in the part of Minho's shirt hanging out.
"You're an absolute mess, you know that?"
It had been several months, at this point, since they'd started talking and becoming a little more friendly, so Jisung saw no problem with helping with the older's wardrobe malfunction. He quickly adjusted the askew tie and reached up to pat down Minho's hair, shaking his head while watching as his own fingers gently brushed through the strands to lay them flat.
When he finished, he looked back down, about to take a step backwards and make sure Minho looked alright, but his friend's gaze was locked onto his, making his breath hitch. They stared at each other in complete silence for what felt like an eternity, before Jisung broke the direct eye contact to step back like he'd planned.
"Alright. You're presentable. You brushed your teeth, yeah?"
Minho hummed in confirmation, not fully verbalizing his response. He'd done everything in his power to stay still while Jisung touched him, knowing yet still unprepared for the powerful effect it would have on him. His feelings were growing unmanageable, and Minho knew it.
"Good." Jisung continued, making sure to avoid any further mutual gazes as he turned down the hallway. "We need to go before my mother heads out this morning. We're already running later than usual."
He'd hit the button, calling the elevator to him while trying to continue avoiding the wide-eyed stare Minho was still giving him. It was burning holes through him. Jisung did his best to breathe normally, act normally... anything to not give away how flustered Minho's gaze could make him.
When the elevator doors opened, Jisung felt the air grow cold and shivers crawl up his spine. His mother stood just inches from the two men, tilting her head while looking between them. Her lengthy black ponytail swung to the side as she leaned her head back up straight, taking in a deep breath before tapping her heel against the tile of the elevator.
"How long am I supposed to wait for you? Move your legs, Jisung."
Jisung blinked rapidly a few times, swallowing the uneasiness that had built up like tar in his lungs and throat before scrambling to rush into the elevator with Minho following close behind him. He stood directly behind his mother while Minho stood on the other side, leaning slightly against the railing.
"Lee Minho, always a pleasure. I didn't know you lived here?" She asked, turning to him with a soft, pleasant smile. While she was turning, he bowed slightly in greeting to be polite.
"I used to leave quite early to try and get to the office earlier than everyone else, so we probably never crossed paths here because of that."
"Ah. I assume my son's chronic aversion to effort and work ethic has changed that for you."
Minho watched as she quickly glanced at Jisung in a way to show her disapproval before she smiled back at Minho and let out a small laugh. He did not return the niceties, staring at her in silent response.
"Kidding, of course. You two... carpool, then? How long has that been going on?"
Jisung took a quick, but deep, breath before preparing himself to answer the question, but Minho took the lead. "It's been a couple of months. I no longer have a working car, so Jisung has been kind enough to help me when I need it. And we leave for work so 'late' because I started sleeping in once I realized I wasn't getting enough. I typically have to rush out the door to keep up with him."
He chuckled, an air of feigned comfortability surrounding him. Jisung's mother let out a hum of unamused acknowledgement as she turned back to face the elevator doors, nearing their lateral destination.
When the doors opened, Jisung rushed past his mother, bowing deeply in front of her before heading for the building's entrance doors at a quickened pace. Minho tried to keep up, putting a slight amount of distance between them until Jisung tripped over the carpeted walkway leading out from the rotating doors.
Minho cupped his hands around Jisung's forearms, helping him stand while looking over him, worriedly. But the younger could feel the pair of eyes boring into them. He could feel her unrelenting gaze tearing the scene apart in her head. So he quickly pushed Minho's hands off of him and looked appalled. His fingertips brushed against the skin that the older had been touching, as if he was almost disgusted at the contact.
Minho swallowed and looked down before taking a step back, obviously surprised at Jisung's reaction. The younger spent a moment to flatten down his own hair and roll his shoulders before turning and walking through the revolving doors without a word, leaving Minho to silently follow.
The older male didn't hear a single syllable uttered from Jisung throughout the day- on the car ride, on breaks... nothing.
Until 15 minutes before he was about to leave, hoping he would have a chance to talk to the latter on their drive home. His phone buzzed to signal that he had a new text.
Jisung
I had to leave.
Ordered you an Uber.
License Plate: 개스143
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Time typically flew for Minho- at least it had for the past several months. Now... now it was moving at a grueling state. He'd grown accustomed to Jisung being there at the beginning and end of his work days. He loved the times they were able to get lunch or coffee, but he loved the moments where they were able to sit and chat in their offices or the meeting rooms even more. The familiarity of the routine felt almost domestic, and only succeeded in furthering his affections for the younger.
The morning when they'd had the unfortunate experience of taking the elevator down with Ms. Han, he realized just how much he needed Jisung. When Jisung fixed his clothing, patted his hair down softly, and gazed at him, he was filled with an overwhelming set of emotions that were very foreign to him- yet he still recognized them immediately. The younger male's touch was enough to send shockwaves through his body, shivers that traveled up his spine and landed in his cheeks.
Jisung had this look in his eyes. He had paused to gaze right back at Minho, breathing deeply while they maintained eye contact for those brief seconds. The older was genuinely convinced that Jisung had to at least feel something similar.
So it was incredibly surprising and upsetting when Jisung texted him that night, ordering him an Uber to go home, and only texted him again a day later to say that he wouldn't be able to take Minho to or from work anymore. He didn't understand. Was the interaction too much? Was it his mother? Why did he freak out when Minho touched his arms after he fell? Why did he stay silent, afterwards, and why was he not talking to or carpooling with him anymore?
Once again, he found himself with too many questions and not enough answers.
The conundrum only furthered when Jisung stopped showing up to work. His assistant said she was told that Jisung was "working from home" although she hadn't seen him in team chats or meetings, and his schedule had been cleared for the foreseeable future. Minho didn't want to push and continue to text him when he wasn't responding- but there were times when he sent an occasional message to "check in" with the hopes that maybe Jisung would be able to reply.
Jisung
Thursday, May 25th
I hope you're doing okay.
Monday, May 29th
[image attached]
Just so you know- the coffee machine misses you.
Tuesday, June 6th
I'm starting to worry. Can you at least let me
know if you're alright?
If there was one thing Minho had picked up on in their time together as friends, it was that Jisung's mother created an insurmountable fear in him. He rarely talked about her, but when he did, it was to subtly explain the level of control she held.
"If you want to keep carpooling, that's fine. But we'll need to be up and out of the building before my mother heads out."
"We can stop at the bakery before we go home. My mother's on a business trip, so I don't need to go back right after work."
"Sorry about the loud sounds you heard through the floor. I can't imagine how rough it is to live in the unit under us when my mother gets... heated."
"Why do I still live with my mother...? Mm... I don't have much of a choice."
Jisung would never explain further, and Minho knew better than to ask.
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A loud thud woke Minho from his sleep, leaving him in a jarringly disoriented state as he sat up. He was going to shake it off and go back to sleep after a few moments of complete silence, convinced he'd dreamt it, until he heard it again.
Directly above his room.
He jolted out of bed, nearly stumbling as he hopped across his floor to throw on sweatpants and a random t-shirt to cover himself before heading upstairs. When the elevator doors opened to reveal the 40th floor, he was met with the sight of Jisung sitting against one of the hallway walls, his knees brought up to his chest. He was staring straight ahead, through the open door to the entrance of his home. He deeply ducked to the left, sighing as a filled trash bag was thrown from the inside of his apartment, hitting the wall behind him- near where his head was.
He wasn't crying. He didn't look sad- just tired. He was wearing nothing but a hospital gown, flowing around his legs to cover the majority of his body in his current position.
Before Minho could take another step towards him, Jisung turned to face the elevators, belatedly registering the signal of their arrival. When his eyes connected with Minho's, they fluttered briefly before his gaze was turned back down to the floor, and then to the apartment entrance again. He moved the bag just slightly, pulling it out of the walkway as two men left Jisung's apartment, looking extremely uncomfortable.
The younger of the two strangers looked more frustrated than the other- the same man who was sitting on Jisung's desk that day in his office. Christopher Bang.
The door slammed shut behind them, with no regard to their neighbors- and Christopher wasted no time in bending down to pull Jisung's arm out towards him. He placed a cotton pad and beige, sticky wrap around the inside of the boy's elbow, sighing before running his hand through Jisung's hair.
"Do you want to come back with me? You don't need to stay here. You shouldn't stay here."
Jisung shook his head before bowing it slightly- a show of thanks.
"Jisung, where are you going to go? You can't stay here. Even if you could, it's obviously not... safe... for you."
Jisung swallowed again, clutching the filled trash bag harshly. His life had revolved around controlling his emotions, being careful of what he said, being calculating in his actions- he was raised to be something that society told him was strong and necessary, but he didn't trust himself in that moment. He worried that if he tried to speak, if he verbalized anything, he would break. His training, the expectations set in him... everything would crumble.
Minho spent less than a minute allowing himself to feel startled and confused over what was happening before he took a deep breath, straightened his back and walked forward with practiced confidence and control- the best he could manage. He bent down to his own knees and brushed the fallen blonde bangs from Jisung's face.
"He can stay with me, if he wants." Minho said without taking his eyes off the boy in front of him. The younger dropped his head slightly, as if to think, before looking back up and nodding.
"Walk or carry?"
Jisung was already struggling. When he had first met Minho, followed by the months afterwards when they began growing closer, he felt like he was losing himself. Everything he had been learning- everything that had been drilled into him about how he was supposed to act slowly slipped away.
But in that moment, when Minho looked at him with those caring, worried eyes, he knew that he didn't lose himself. He was in the process of finding himself. With Minho, he started acting less- started wearing his mask less. He was becoming more of himself. He found comfort in their bond, slow-building and hesitant as it may be.
So the thoughts ringing through his head, screaming "Don't ask for help... don't allow an alpha to carry you," didn't last long. He stared up at Minho with a slight pout to his tight-lipped frown, and the older nodded, understanding immediately.
"Is the bag yours?" Jisung gave another heavy nod, looking to the side as if he were ashamed.
"Wait, who are you?" Christopher asked, looking both concerned and confused as his gaze rapidly switched between the man in front of him.
Minho swept one arm around Jisung's back, the other under his legs, before grabbing hold of the bag and standing up. "Lee Minho. Nice to meet you."
Without another word from either male, Minho began walking back to the elevator, and carried Jisung back to his apartment downstairs. He loved being able to hold Jisung in such a close manner, being able to carry him and have him rely on the older, but he was also filled with worry and a weird sense of pain. Seeing Jisung in this state made him almost want to cry.
His heart hurt.
He kept silent as they entered his apartment. When Minho tried to set him on the couch, Jisung's grip felt like it tightened, not wanting to pull away. Jisung had been quietly breathing in Minho's scent, letting his head rest close to the older's neck, just trying to calm himself. It was working, and he was scared to let go. But he didn't want to make Minho uncomfortable, so he ultimately, hesitantly, dropped his arms and pulled away.
The older placed a comforting hand on his head and smiled. "I'm going to make you some tea. I'll be right back."
When he came back with two cups of tea, he set them on the coffee table. He wanted to ask what happened, if Jisung was okay, where he'd been, why he hadn't texted back- so many things. But he settled on one.
"What do you need right now?"
Jisung looked up at him, blinking heavily and slowly. His mouth opened as if to say something before snapping shut. He eyed Minho's chest, his lap- his entire figure, before looking off to the side and then down at the floor. He felt awkward, and didn't know how to ask for what he wanted. Not only did it feel foreign to try and explore this level of vulnerability, he didn't want to make Minho feel uneasy or obligated to provide something he didn't want to.
But he underestimated Minho's attentiveness to him- underestimated how the older watched the movement of his eyes before looking away and giving into his anxious thoughts. Minho was quick to pick him up and set Jisung in his lap, reaching over to grab a cup of tea to hand to him. He used a slight amount of pressure with his hand around Jisung's back and arm to carefully push the boy towards his chest, holding him there sideways, as Jisung's legs draped over the other side of the couch, fully planted in Minho's lap.
Jisung's hands raised to slowly wrap around the cup given to him as he leaned further into Minho.
How did he know exactly what I wanted? And why is he giving it to me?
Maybe this isn't awkward for him, and I'm making it into something it's not.
Maybe-
"Stop overthinking." Minho said softly, earning a raised head and wide-eyed look from Jisung. "I like this. Drink your tea."
Minho could easily tell that Jisung was comfortable, and this was, in fact, what he had wanted, because Jisung had relaxed and exhaled in relief immediately when Minho moved him. But he also knew that Jisung was quiet most of the time because he was in his own head- it was another one of the first things he'd learned about the younger. Jisung took a lot of time to decide what was okay to say or do- what was acceptable.
His worries of overstepping were still there, of course. He didn't want to push any limits that Jisung may have, but he realized that all he could do was ask or hope that Jisung would tell him.
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It took Jisung another day before he was comfortable speaking again. When he did, he glossed over the event that had brought him to the apartment, and simply thanked Minho for taking him in. Minho had let the younger sleep in his bed, while Minho took the couch for himself. The raven-haired male had called in to take time off work, and spent that time doing everything he could to take care of Jisung. He cooked for him, constantly brought him tea and water, and sat on the couch with him while they watched movies and shows. Jisung very quickly grew comfortable with cuddling into Minho after that first day, and didn't hesitate to crawl into his lap or sit beside him and lean in.
Jisung had stopped wearing his scented oils, and although the older wondered why, he would never question it. He was absolutely basking in the omega's perfectly sweet scent as the younger pranced around Minho's apartment as if it were his own, cleaning and watering plants even though Minho said he didn't need to do anything. He was smiling more, and he would get excited over things like their shows and the older's cooking.
Minho didn't ask questions, and Jisung was appreciative, but the younger knew he should say something.
A few days into Jisung staying at the apartment, they were sitting on the couch, side-by-side, watching a new movie that had come out. Halfway through, the blonde male paused the show and sighed. Before Minho could ask what's wrong, Jisung began explaining as if it'd been eating at his mind.
"My mom didn't allow me to have friends- made me ghost the ones I did have when I presented. She wasn't happy that you and I had grown 'close enough' to carpool and talk, without her permission. When I tripped in the lobby that day, she saw, and she was angry that I looked weak. Not just for falling, but... the way you worried about me. She read into it and assumed some things."
Minho took a deep breath in, wanting to ask more questions but waiting for Jisung to finish. He honestly almost expected the younger to never tell him what was going on, so he was perfectly fine just moving at Jisung's pace.
"She got to work that day and made me leave early with her, and she kind of hounded me about our friendship, asking what I had told you. I didn't admit anything about the... the day I found out you lived here... but I told her that we started talking because you smelled vanilla around me. I lied and told her I played it off like it was the coffee I had, and you believed it, but that it was enough for us to start talking more and being friends."
Jisung gulped and looked down, twiddling with his fingers, anxiously, before continuing.
"My whole life, my parents thought I was going to be an alpha. The genes run in my mom's family pretty heavily. So when I turned out to... not... be, she wouldn't accept it. She scared me into basically being a science experiment. I took daily and weekly injections of both heat suppressants and pheromone suppressants, along with steroids that helped me stay in shape as my body grew a little more... um... fragile? Is that the right word?"
He shook his head. It was obvious to Minho that this was extremely hard to talk about, so he stayed quiet to let Jisung find his words, and tell him only what he was comfortable with. He held back from reaching out to hug or touch the boy, just letting him be as he spoke- even though it was hard. He just wanted to console Jisung. This wasn't an easy thing to hear, and made Minho sick to his stomach, so he could only imagine how hard it was to talk about.
"Only one doctor was willing to try experimenting and keep quiet. He would do constant check ups and draw blood, although I'm not sure what for, to be honest. His son, Christopher, was sometimes sent to do the check-ups, and he was kind. He did his best to make sure I was okay. But over the past few months, the suppressants have been less effective, as you know, and I've been feeling more fatigued and irritable.
"While my mother kept me at home, deciding what to do about me and our 'friendship'- which she still isn't happy about, I got pretty sick. The other day when you found me... they told my mom I can't take the injections anymore. My body was rejecting them and it would make me chronically ill if I were to continue. So she kind of came up with an all-in-one solution and kicked me out. Told me to figure it out for myself, but she would not have an omega for a child- as if... yeah."
He finished with a chuckle, finally looking back up at Minho to signal that he was done explaining. He couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't admit to his secondary gender, but Minho understood.
"Can I... are you comfortable if I ask a few questions? You don't have to answer, if you don't want to," Minho said, slowly. When Jisung nodded, he took another deep breath and tried to decide where to begin.
"What about your other parent? You never talk about them."
Jisung pursed his lips before nodding. "My dad left my mom a little while after I presented. Too many fights about what to do about my secondary gender. My dad couldn't handle my mother's... temper. I don't know much else, to be honest. He was just gone one day."
"Did she ever-"
"Yeah." Jisung cut him off, looking away for a moment. He knew what Minho was going to ask. Minho closed his eyes, trying to fight an immature, possessive, overbearing urge to walk up to the apartment above his and confront the younger's mother.
Everything began clicking into place. Why Han would be distant one moment and sweet the next. Why he struggled so hard to let anyone in. Why he didn't text Minho back. Why he pretended to be something he wasn't.
He really meant it when he said he didn't have a choice. With a parent like that... his mother only further proved society's unfair treatment and perception of omegas. Everything Jisung was scared of in the beginning... was only instilled further by the way his mother treated him.
He didn't have any other questions- just the one.
"What do you need right now?"
Jisung's eyes fluttered up to Minho's before looking down. It was hard to make eye contact with the desires that were swarming through his head. Minho was safe- made him feel protected and cared for. He didn't judge Jisung and he didn't ask questions or push boundaries. He didn't treat him any differently because of his past or his secondary gender. He was just Minho. And it didn't feel right to want more than what Minho was so generously giving him.
And Minho didn't want to assume Jisung's feelings and make him uncomfortable by pushing for something more than what they had, but he felt stuck. He didn't know if Jisung would ever be able to open up to him- if he really did have those feelings. He worried he'd never know.
"More cuddles?" Jisung finally spoke up in a hesitant whisper. So Minho pushed his own desires and cravings down, pulled Jisung back into his lap, and let his hands softly run circles into Jisung's legs as they continued the movie from where they left off.
If this was all Minho could get, he would take it.
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A/N: Mmmm 3 parts left?
Maybe?