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The question lingered in the air between them.
Where next?
Jisung wasn't sure where to suggest. He didn't care, not really, he just didn't want Minho to leave. He racked his brain; he couldn't take Minho to the café, or the dance studio, or Hyunjin's house - the three places he recently spent most his time at, but also three places that were intrinsically linked with Minho.
Before Jisung could worry himself more about the lack of options, he was interrupted by a low buzz from his pocket. He glanced apologetically at Minho before answering the phone.
"Hey, you near the flat by any chance? I must've locked myself out."
Chan's voice was loud enough for Minho to hear, and Jisung was not amused by this. He didn't want to take Minho back to their place. It was so much messier, especially compared to the pristine nature of Minho and Seungmin's room. And then there was Chan. Admittedly, not Minho's biggest fan.
But Minho seemed intrigued by the idea of seeing how the younger lived.
"We can head over there if you need to," he had whispered to Jisung.
Through gritted teeth: "Sure, hyung, we're on our way now."
"We? I thought Changbin was at the gym?" Even though it was tinny over the poor connection, Jisung could hear Chan's confusion.
"He is. I'm... We'll be there soon." And then he hung up on a still confused Chan.
Minho's smile was hard to decipher as Jisung started to walk, and Minho went with him.
"Don't want to tell him you're with me?" Minho mused. "Trying to keep me a secret?"
Jisung laughed. "Want you all to myself."
The walk to the flat was barely ten minutes, but this was still enough time for Jisung to twist himself up into a state of internal anxiety. Not very well internalised, apparently, as Minho picked up on it. He edged slightly closer to Jisung so their shoulders bumped together as they walked. Sent cautious glances in his direction but didn't ask. Jisung was grateful for this.
They rounded a corner and Jisung was ready to run in the opposite direction when he saw Chan leaning casually against the stairs up their building, glancing down at his phone and yet to notice Jisung and Minho.
When he spotted them, his face twisted through a cycle of emotions. Jisung felt Minho compose himself slightly beside him and wanted to reassure him. Did he recognise Chan from when they had seen each other at the bus stop however long ago? Would he say anything, if he did?
"Jisung," Chan's voice seemed guarded. "Lee Minho?"
Minho offered a smile and Jisung wanted to wrap him up in his arms. He hadn't seen the older boy like this, somewhat nervous, appeasing.
"Hi," Minho responded simply.
Jisung brushed past them both, not particularly wanting to engage, before he stuck his key into the door and pushed it open for Chan. Chan walked past him but paused at the threshold.
"Not coming in?"
"No, we're-"
Jisung was cut off by Minho stepping past him, following Chan into the building. Jisung swore under his breath as Minho glanced back over his shoulder at the younger with the hint of a smile and one quirked brow.
"You're just picking something up, right? And then you're meeting Changbin at the gym?" Jisung's voice was hopeful.
Any hope was crushed when Chan looked studiously between Jisung and Minho, sizing them up, before shrugging and putting his backpack down on the floor in the hallway.
"Nah. I'll stay for a bit." He said this with an almost cruel smile at Jisung, whose fight or flight was once again urging him to run.
Chan turned to head into the living room that jutted off from the hallway. Jisung wanted nothing less than to follow him. Partly because he wanted Minho all to himself, partly because he was scared of what could be said between his housemate and his... Minho.
But his mind was made up for him; with another cursory glance at Jisung, Minho followed Chan into the living room.
If Minho's house was neat, vibey, clean, Jisung's was the opposite. He glanced in dismay at the empty take-out boxes and empty bottles, cans, and cups that littered at least half of the surfaces. The threadbare carpets, even rattier blankets covering the couches, a half-hearted attempt at decorating. A seemingly dead plant, gifted to Changbin by a girl who was trying to win his heart, a far-cry away from the lush greenery of Minho's home.
Jisung, Chan and Changbin had grown used to this. They complemented each other's living styles and barely recognised the mess anymore. With Minho in the room, each flaw became glaringly obvious to Jisung.
"God, I'm sorry, it's so messy," he mumbled as he tried to kick one of many cans under the couch discreetly.
"Lived in," argued Minho with a small smile.
He had headed straight to the wilting plant. His fingers were gentle yet sure as they parted the almost grey stems, plucking off a couple of dying leaves.
"Chlorophytum comosum." Minho wasn't speaking to the room, just to himself. "Poor thing, what have they done to you?"
"We aren't exactly plant people." Jisung's voice was almost apologetic.
"I could revive it for you," offered Minho. "If you would like me to."
Jisung smiled at Minho; he had forgotten Chan was even there, intrigued by Minho's dedication and simply wanting to hear him speak more. Always wanting more from him.
Chan scoffed and reminded Jisung of his presence. The atmosphere in the room became foggy, cloudy, and Jisung cast him a scathing glare.
"Stop it," Jisung hissed under his breath, aiming at Chan. Loud enough that both could hear, and Minho fought to hide a grin.
Chan was now observing Minho critically. "You might be good, but not even the Lee Minho can restore life. Why bother?"
Jisung was worried Minho would bite back. He didn't want that glower, the one that he had seen a few times now, to come to life in his home. He wanted Minho to feel comfortable, and if that meant Chan had to leave, so be it.
Minho answered Chan before Jisung could. "You'd be surprised. Even the Bang Chan could fix a simple spider plant, if you tried hard enough."
Minho's tone was light and jovial. He was avoiding coming off as a threat or an agitation, noted Jisung.
"You're saying I don't try?" Chan's voice was not so light, not so jovial. Jisung cringed.
"More that you can achieve whatever you want with enough research and time."
"And if I don't have enough research or time?" It seemed like Chan was challenging Minho. He probably was.
Minho shrugged. "Then I guess maybe I am saying you don't try."
With that, Jisung was ushering Minho out of the room, picking up the plant precariously as he did. He knew Minho wasn't trying to start something, but equally knew that Chan could use anything to fuel an argument. Jisung was happy that the older didn't follow them as he herded Minho into the kitchen.
"I don't think he likes me very much," Minho said with a twist in full lips as they paused in the (equally messy) kitchen.
Jisung let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "He didn't like me much at first, either. He'll warm up."
Minho seemed intrigued but didn't pry. Instead, he headed with light steps over to the kitchen sink, prising the plant from Jisung's other hand. Minho's fingers probed again at the soil around the plant before he flicked on the tap.
"Common misconception," he murmured as he ran his fingers under the water and flicked a few droplets onto the soil. "That dying plants just need more water. The soil is dry, so it does need some water, but not too much. Spider plants don't cope well with excess water."
Jisung was watching, enthralled.
"I picked off most of the dead bits. See here how there is some green poking through where I snapped off the dry stems? That means there's still life in there. Break off the dead bits, the living bits can grow. And you might want to think about moving where you keep it. Chlorophytum like indirect light, so somewhere less bright might help."
Jisung nodded along as Minho spoke. He was about to answer when a slam echoed through the flat; a silence followed. Chan must have left.
"Maybe my bedroom," Jisung mumbled, all of a sudden timid. "I think there's a good spot up there."
The smile on Minho's face curved smoothly, met his eyes, which had drifted to settle on Jisung.
"Show me," he said simply.
Jisung was in a daze as he led Minho back into the corridor and down to the end of it. The furthest room from the entrance, the door pull closed. Jisung was about to push it open before he froze.
"Actually," he said, panicked. "Can you... Just... Can you give me a moment?"
Minho tilted his head inquisitively, but obliged. He hovered by the door as Jisung slipped inside, moving quick enough that Minho wouldn't see inside the room.
Shit, Jisung swore under his breath. Where do I start first?
Clean clothes off the floor and shoved into a drawer, dirty clothes hoisted up from the floor and chucked haphazardly into a laundry basket. Curtains drawn open, empty coke cans and snack packets pushed under his bed. Sheet music shuffled into a pile that was as close to neat as Jisung could managed and then left on the desk. Bed hastily made. He paused to observe; not perfect, but better.
After composing his room, he tried to compose himself. A deep breath. A spritz of cologne, unsure why. An uneasy feeling in his stomach that he couldn't decipher nor ignore. And then a voice from outside the door.
"Still want me all to yourself?"
Jisung hesitated before he opened the door, his eyes low as he let Minho in.
"You can put the plant on the desk," he said, still avoiding eye contact. "It's just out of the way of the window, so doesn't get too much light."
Minho put the plant down without looking at anything else in the room except Jisung. The persistent silence cued Jisung to lift his eyes, sneak a look at Minho through his eyelashes. Minho was staring.
"Even after a few minutes away from you," Minho said quietly. "Still surprises me that you're this pretty in person."
Jesus, the blush that sprinted into Jisung's cheeks was enough to set off a fire alarm. It made Minho grin.
"Prettiest face, ugliest tongue?" Jisung echoed Minho's words from the first time they'd really met.
Minho's grin became a laugh. "Ugly tongue might have been too far. Sharp would have been a better choice of words."
Jisung wasn't sure what to do with himself. He felt exposed, worried by Minho being this close, being in his room, being... Aimless. Jisung felt an urge to give him something to do but his mind was drawing blanks.
"Sit down," Minho said, voice low but authoritative. Jisung didn't think twice. He stepped back and sat on the mattress.
He liked this about Minho. When he felt lost, he needed someone to guide him, and this seemed to be a strong suit of Minho's.
And yet he felt more lost than ever when he realised Minho hadn't sat down next to him, but had instead kneeled down onto the floor- in front of Jisung. His chest pressing lightly into the sharp bend of Jisung's knees.
The shock on Jisung's face must have been clear as day as it spurred another laugh from Minho, another laugh that Jisung was desperate to catch and hold onto forever.
"Hmm," Minho mused. "It's wild to me that you're the same boy who once told me he could get me to do anything he wanted. Where's he gone?"
"Don't want you to do anything for me," Jisung's voice shook slightly. Minho pouted.
There was a beat; a breath, a pause, a stutter, a silence, before Jisung finished his sentence.
"Want to do it all for you."
And then Minho was lifting up to curve a palm around the back of Jisung's neck and angle his head down so their lips were drawn closer. Before they could meet, Minho waited. Jisung had closed his eyes almost automatically but Minho wanted them open.
"Got me all to yourself now," Minho reminded the younger. Jisung's eyes flew open and caught Minho's face creasing upwards into a smile.
And then they were kissing. Minho rising, pushing Jisung back lightly so the younger shuffled upwards and backwards until his spine was pressing into the wall that his bed was shoved up against. Minho followed. He crawled up onto the bed, keeping Jisung's lips warm on his as he moved.
Jisung couldn't control the whimper that escaped when he felt Minho's lips pull away for a moment, nor the full-bodied whine that followed when the lips moved south, grazing at Jisung's jaw and nipping gently at his neck.
He couldn't control the noises, nor the... movement. The warmth pooling in his stomach. His mind going soft whilst his body went hard. Minho could feel it as he pressed himself closer into Jisung.
"All from some kissing, huh?" teased Minho, the cool exhale that followed highlighting the tender spots Minho had left behind. It sent goosebumps up Jisung's arms and more blood coursing around his body.
"So pretty," Minho mumbled as he angled one knee to press between Jisung's thighs and returned his attention to his neck. "So pretty, all of you."
"All yours," sighed Jisung as his body squirmed.
Jisung's breath was bated as he waited for what would come next. He definitely didn't expect what was actually to follow.
But of course, nothing could've predicted it. Not the door to the flat being swung open so hard that it slammed against the inner wall, not the voice that yelled angrily up the stairs.
"Han Jisung, come the fuck out, NOW."
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i get so shyyyyyyyyy writing spicy stuff hehehehe ---- and can't let u have it all at once ;)