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"Really?" The voice was husky, whispering. "Trying to make me jealous?"
Any remnant of Jisung's conceited exterior seemed to evaporate, and a gasp parted his lips. He was frozen. He couldn't flick his eyes from Minho's, hot coal, embers almost searing orange at the edges, narrowed and searching.
Minho tilted his head slightly at the lack of response. He dipped his head down, closer to Jisung's.
Another gasp. Smaller, closer to a sharp inhale, and Jisung squeezed his eyes shut. There was a moment where he could feel warm breath, close enough to hear Minho exhale softly. And then Minho pulled away.
"Jesus," Jisung muttered, opening his eyes. "Ever heard of personal space?"
Minho smirked. His gaze lingered on Jisung's, who made an effort to meet it. He wanted to look away. It felt like it was burning him, his eyes watering, but he tried his hardest to hold Minho's stare.
"What was it you said earlier? I wondered if you could help me with this stretch." Minho parroted Jisung's words perfectly.
A frown fluttered across Jisung's face. "So what, you're obsessed with me now?"
"Says the person who has shown up at my home, my workplace, and my dance class, all in the space of two weeks," Minho reminded. He was still smirking, still meeting Jisung's eyes.
Jisung looked away at this, pushing his tongue into the side of his own cheek in exasperation. Minho had a point. How annoying.
"So, were you?" Jisung counteracted in an obvious attempt to change the conversation.
Cocking his head, Minho waited for clarification.
"Jealous," Jisung said lightly.
A laugh lifted Minho's lips slightly, not quite passing further than his mouth, eyes still deadpan. He pulled his lower lip through his teeth once, slowly, allowing his gaze to drift down to Jisung's jaw before speaking.
"I don't feel like I need to be."
Jisung scoffed, annoyed at Minho's dismissive answer. When Minho didn't respond, Jisung pursed his lips and lifted his chin to regain eye contact with Minho.
"But that doesn't mean you weren't jealous."
Minho's eyes were dancing, gleaming. He was enjoying this. Unsure of whether it was because of Jisung's famed brattiness or that sudden glimpse of submission, but he was enjoying it. Once more, he leaned in towards Jisung who was still stood with his back to the wall. This time his face moved closer so his lips were angled into Jisung's ear.
Jisung tried to hold in a shiver when he felt a breeze curl round his ear, Minho's cool breath against sensitive skin making his body act of its own accord. Minho noticed the brief tremor in Jisung's firm hold, and again, a low laugh rippled through slightly chapped lips.
He leaned back slightly so that Jisung could see this laugh had met his eyes, softening them into crescent moons, so sweet that it ached in the younger boy's teeth. He was so taken aback by the smile that he didn't notice Minho lean back in.
"I don't need to be jealous because I know how easily I could make you all mine," Minho murmured.
Jisung froze. He couldn't have moved if he wanted to.
I don't need to be jealous because I know how easily I could make you all mine. I don't need to be jealous because I know how easily I could make you all mine. I don't need to be jealous because I know how easily I could make you all mine.
It swirled in his head. Becoming white noise and blurring his vision, numbing him to anything else. Numbing him to the way Minho offered him one final laugh, before stepping back and walking away. Jisung was just coming to his senses when Minho threw a parting sentence over his shoulder.
"See you in the next class, Han Jisung."
It took Jisung a few minutes to compose himself, standing alone in the street, heart struggling to slow down. When he did, he walked home in a daze. His secret encounter with Minho played on a loop in his mind.
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It was a few days later, and Jisung was feeling frustrated. There were dark rings creating bruises around his eyes, and his usual almond skin had paled slightly. He looked exhausted, and he was. No one knew why he hadn't been able to sleep a wink over the last few nights except him. Him, and likely Minho.
See you in the next class, Han Jisung.
Jisung was dreading it, but at the same time couldn't bear to wait. He needed to know what the fuck Minho was on, what game he was playing. It was infuriating, feeling like the butt of Minho's joke.
He'd pushed back thoughts of hanging round the café, finding a reason to call at Hyunjin's house, even staking out the building they had their dance class in. But he restrained himself. Minho was clearly trying to toy with him, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine, and Jisung refused to fall for it.
Sleepless nights meant he found himself at the convenience store near his house more often that not. Today, he was looking for protein, carbs, and sugar. A neon green sign by the door advertised 2-for-1 chicken skewers, and Jisung was grateful to also see the 2+1 deal spanning his favourite parts of the snack aisle.
It was late, around 2am, but that was not necessarily a quiet time on a Friday night in Seoul. The streets outside were busy with people, some ending the night on a high, others finding new places and ways to party. Light from streetlamps and neon signs on buildings cast a warm, dim glow across their faces, and Jisung gazed wonderingly through the window at the way waves of people were carried through the city. He loved Seoul at night.
Still, there were only a couple of people in the convenience store. It was pretty big, the area's only 24/7 branch, and Jisung could only hear a few muted conversations taking place in the aisles around him.
He'd almost finished picking his last snack of choice in the 2+1 promotion when a thunderous crack sent him into a brace position, quickly squatting down to his knees and covering his ears and head with his hands. In this pose, he was small enough to be mistaken as a child, even as a bulk-size sack of flour.
Another crack seemed to rip its way through the thick glass of the convenience store, this time muffled only slightly by a clamour of voices both inside and outside the building.
"What was that?"
"Hey, did you see what that was?"
"Was that a...?"
The cracks continued in the night outside, people's voices rising, a symphony of confused and concerns questions. Jisung's whole body was tense; he stayed in his position, pulling his lips tight over clenched teeth, forcing quick and silent breaths through his nose. He could feel it.
Panic.
whatthefuckishappeningwasthatabomboragunorsomethingelsewhyistherenoonemovingwhatamisupposedtodowhereistheexitineedtogetoutineedtoleaveineedtorungetmeou-
If the immediate panic had swaddled cotton around his senses, his inner monologue tore through it, and Jisung found his body moving on autopilot. He walked quickly, but it felt like he was forcing himself through thick, warm mud.
itsokaybreatheinbreatheoutbreatheinkeepeyesopenleftfootrightfootleftfootrightfootillbeoutsoonitsokayicandothis-
Every fibre in his body strengthened and battled to ward off the panic attack that was screaming its way up through his lungs. Jisung tried his hardest to ignore the panicked voices which were still calling out outside, tried to ignore the sporadic banging sounds that ripped through the night air.
He could see the door. He was almost there. He'd walk quickly through the crowds, quietly, he knew how to make his way home surreptitiously. It was all going to be okay.
Wait-
Why is the cashier locking the door?
The fearful pull on her face matched Jisung's, and as she slams the lock on the door shut, she turns to face Jisung and the other customers who had slowly emerged from the aisles.
Her voice wavered with anxiety when she spoke. "It's okay, I'll keep this locked just in case. I'll call the police, but it might be good if we all call-"
"Please, I need to get out," Jisung interrupted. He could hear the frequency of his own voice, the way fear pulled it tight across his vocal chords.
"I'm sorry, sir, I can't-"
"No, you can. You need to. Open the door now, and let me leave." Jisung's voice had risen almost to a yell and he implored the cashier with his eyes to relent.
She swallowed, shook her head no.
"You don't get it. I can't be in here. I'll be quick, you just have to open the door and let me-"
"Sir, please, you need to calm down." The cashier's eyes shifted nervously amongst Jisung and the others.
Jisung's breath picked up, fear bubbling up his throat, fingers coiling so that nails could curl up into palms and squeeze. Breaths turned to small gasps, and Jisung turned away from the cashier, about to run to the other end of the convenience store in search of another exit.
And then there he was.
Minho didn't even look at Jisung, simply shot a glare at the cashier and pulled Jisung by the shoulder so they were walking away. He swung one arm up so it rested against Jisung's back, applying a light pressure and guiding him to the other end of the store.
Jisung hadn't registered a thing. He was gulping for air, chin tucked into his chest, eyes barely parted into a squint. There was a new, sticky warmth where his nails met the flesh of his palms. He could still hear distant bangs in the distance, but they seemed to move further away from the building. This was worse than it had been a while. It felt like it wouldn't end.
And then-
Cool air runs fingers through Jisung's hair, across his face, and a metal door clangs shut behind him. He's outside. He's free. The air is enough to shock some of the feeling back into Jisung's body, but he helps it out by angling himself so he could lean his back against the chill of a brick wall and slide down to hunch on the floor.
It was reminiscent of the escape he'd felt at the party only a couple of weeks before, but something was different.
Minho crouched down in front of him.
Jisung was yet to recognise his presence; he had his eyes squeezed shut, his hands covering his face, shoulders still trembling slightly as he tried to regain his breath. It was to no avail. When he finally opened his eyes and met Minho's, any breath in his body dissipated.
"You okay?" Minho asked quietly.
Jisung squeezed his eyes back closed and covered his face with his hands again. All he could see was darkness, and so he missed the smile that fleeted across Minho's face.
"You're okay," Minho's voice was soft. "It sounded like just kids with fireworks or something. No screaming, just confusion. It's okay."
Jisung nodded, face still hidden. He kept his eyes closed when he felt Minho's fingers prise the hands away from his face. He opened them when he heard Minho's breath hitch in a gasp.
There were small red half-moons creating a constellation across his cheeks. Sharp nails must have torn soft skin, and the transferred blood was drying on Jisung's face. Minho held his breath as he reached out to gently swipe away one of the marks with the pad of his thumb, and paused when Jisung flinched.
He proffered the thumb to Jisung, and Jisung groaned slightly when he saw his own blood on reflecting the dim light of the outside lantern. He reached up with one of his own hands to wipe roughly at the blood on his face before it could fully dry.
"Don't worry about that," Jisung mumbled. "Thank you for... Well, rescuing me. I'm sorry that you had to. I'd better go, but- thanks."
Neither moved for a moment. Jisung's heart froze slightly when Minho didn't acknowledge what he said. His face was drawn into a pensive gaze, seeking something in Jisung's eyes. Jisung wasn't sure whether he had found what he was looking for, but he was relieved when the older boy opened his mouth to speak.
"There is so much of you that people don't see," Minho mused.
With that, he stood up and stepped back. It seemed like he was going to say something else, but hesitated, and clearly decided not to. He just stepped further back, gesturing with one arm, and then watched as Jisung slipped wordlessly away back into the now quietened crowds.
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The first half was too horny to be a stand alone chapter and the second half too sad >:( next one might get spicy~~~ please enjoy!!!