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“Jisung's engaged,”
Minho's breath catches in his chest, invisible claws wrap around his throat.
“Good for him,” he manages, vaguely pleased that his voice doesn’t make it sound like he’s drowning.
Seungmin sighs, almost wearily.
It’s been about a year since Jisung got together with Hyunjin, five years since they met, which is actually longer than what Minho has known him for, who only met Jisung three years ago.
It might sound ridiculous, and it kind of is, but Minho’s always known Jisung would be special to him. Right from the start.
“I’m Jisung,” he’d introduced himself, heart shaped smile and doe eyes.
Oh, no. Minho had thought, this is gonna be a nightmare.
His mother always did tell him to trust his gut.
* * *
When Minho’s old dance crew goes to hell in a handbasket he takes a year off, focuses on other things. His cats, his half-hearted career of freelancing web design, himself - every once in a while.
But dance has a home somewhere deep inside Minho, behind his heart, entangled in his soul. Eventually he finds his way back. Or, rather, dance finds him again.
He applies on a whim, the company is out of his league, really, littered in famous names of artists and producers and choreographers, but Minho misses his old life, misses living and breathing the art of moving, figuring out the sounds and the beats and the rhythm of a song until his body somehow translates into paint on a canvas.
He’s not expecting to be accepted, but for some reason– he is.
“We’re so happy to have you,” Chan says, and Minho’s a bit confused, because he’s not the CEO, but apparently he has enough power within the company to take care of the new employee. The new addition to their team of choreographers. God, he can’t believe he’s here.
“I’m happy to be here,” Minho replies, because he is, even if he didn’t expect it to ever work out.
“You’re gonna love the team,” Chan continues, showing him the break rooms and the cafeteria and the practice rooms. “They’re honestly a group of misfits in their own ways, but somehow it just works– they’re the best we have, I think.”
Chan obviously holds these people very close to his warm, unprofessional heart, and Minho can’t for the life of him understand what he’s doing here.
Two singers, three producers, and two choreographers. No, three, because Minho’s joining them.
He immediately likes Jeongin and Felix, they light up the room so effortlessly it makes Minho’s heart sing with excitement. Changbin and Chan have this strange dynamic of affectionate bullying, Seungmin joins them whenever he’s not stolen by Jeongin, and Hyunjin has an air about him that Minho can’t quite grasp. Larger than life in an almost discreet way.
The door opens, whoever’s behind it in such a rush that it misses the wall by chance alone.
“Sorry I’m late,” says the newcomer, his eyes finding Minho’s. “I’m Jisung.”
Oh, no.
* * *
It’s been months since the last time Minho saw Jisung in person.
Minho actively avoids his part of town, the old company, Jisung’s apartment, their favorite cafe. It’s a big city, but that doesn’t mean much to the strings of fate wrapped around them.
It happens on a Tuesday morning in April, when the sun is filtering down through the soon to be leaves on the trees and onto the grass that’s turning greener every day. Minho doesn’t notice any of it, though, because in front of him stands Jisung.
“Minho,” he says, surprised but happy, “hey.”
Minho's heart cracks open like an egg at the sight of his familiar smile.
“Hi,” he says, stopping in his tracks on the path he uses for his morning runs. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Jisung grins, genuine like he can’t help but be happy to see Minho, to talk to him again. “I just got bored of my old route, didn’t plan for this, though.”
Meeting him like this, so unexpectedly, throws Minho off course completely and he isn’t fully aware of what his face does, because somehow it’s so easy to settle back into Jisung’s orbit.
“I heard the big news,” Minho says eventually, after the part of two old friends catching up is over and Minho starts to realize where he is, who he’s with. The park is big and almost empty this early in the morning and Jisung’s started walking with him without Minho realizing it, going back in the direction he came from.
“Yeah,” Jisung responds, scratching at his neck like he’s embarrassed.
Minho doesn’t know how to continue, he can't bring himself to say what he should. Congratulations, I’m happy for you.
Jisung doesn’t elaborate on it, either.
“Sorry,” he says instead, “this is weird, I shouldn’t have stopped you back there.”
“You didn’t,” Minho says, slightly bewildered, “I saw you and stopped.”
Just like the first time they met, when they saw each other and the world stopped spinning around them. It did that sometimes during those two years– if Minho wasn’t careful and ended up looking at him for too long– the world would just slow to a stop.
He’s not sure how to feel about Jisung still having that effect on him.
“Do you," Jisung says, “do you wanna get coffee?”
This is such a bad idea, Minho's brain tells him.
“Yeah, sure.” He says.
* * *
Friendship comes easily to Minho and Jisung.
He’s the first one to make Minho feel like he belongs with the rest of them, like his brand of weirdness fits in between the slots of the pieces of them all.
Of course, there’s more to Minho and Jisung than just friendship, there’s an electricity that hums softly between them whenever they’re close enough.
It could be as simple as attraction, but something about the way Jisung tries not to laugh at Minho’s quiet sarcasm while catching his gaze, eyes so full of humor Minho swears they’re shimmering like stars– something about it feels different. Like it runs deeper.
The first time Jisung brings Minho home, they spend all night going through their favorite music, the albums and artists that fascinate them.
In the back of Jisung’s storage closet, when Minho’s supposed to look for Jisung’s vinyl collection, he finds a box so full of things it doesn’t even close properly.
“What’s this?” Minho asks, intrigued.
Jisung looks over Minho’s shoulder, spots the box.
“Oh,” he laughs, “that’s my treasure chest.”
As it turns out, Jisung is violently sentimental.
“I’ve never actually shown this to anyone,” he says later, shy with his collection of treasures in between them on the couch.
It’s full of trinkets. A keychain charm he got from a childhood friend, the receipt of the diner where he first met Felix as a teenager, a small framed photo of his grandparents, the guitar pick he “stole” from his old music teacher– the first person who ever encouraged him to pursue it at all.
Minho’s heart aches with it all. He’s never been special enough for anyone to show him something like this before. A collection of their most precious memories.
“You should add this,” he says, and gives Jisung the thin silver chain of the bracelet he’s had for years at this point. At the clasp he’s added a small cat shaped charm, smooth and well loved.
“What?” Says Jisung, “isn’t that important to you?”
“It is,” Minho responds, “so I want you to keep it safe instead.”
So you’ll remember me, he doesn’t say, so you’ll know you’re important to me.
* * *
They end up settling for the outdoor seating of a cafe, the cool spring air soothing Minho’s heated skin.
They order their usuals, the familiarity of it gnawing at Minho. He's already feeling the sparks of irritation in his chest, this is truly a horrible idea.
“I–” Jisung starts, then cuts himself off.
Minho sighs, stirs his coffee. “Let's just get this over with.”
Jisung's eyebrows draw together in sudden and surprised pain, like he didn't know Minho would be capable of hurting him.
“You chose him over me,” Minho says, because if they're doing this they need to start somewhere.
“I didn't realize,” Jisung tries, almost desperate. “I didn't know you had feelings for me back then.”
It's all but a blatant lie. “Oh fuck off,” Minho hisses, anger swelling like fire inside him. “You knew, everyone and their fucking mother knew what I felt for you.”
Jisung's eyes turn glassy. “Minho, please– I just didn't think…” He trails off, unsure.
“You didn't think? Well, clearly not.” Minho almost mocks. He hates being this mean, hates that he feels like he has to for Jisung to get it , but all of this has been building up for so long, it explodes out of Minho like molten rock.
Jisung pauses, knuckles almost white where he grips the handle of his coffee cup. It brings Minho down a bit, to remember where they are and what they're doing.
Finally, Jisung speaks again. “I didn't think you'd be an actual option for me.”
“Well,” Minho says, the anger in him reluctantly simmering down despite it all. “I was.”
Something flashes across Jisung’s face. “Was?”
“Don't be ridiculous,” he responds, almost baffled at what he can see in Jisung's eyes. “What are you gonna do? Call the whole thing off?”
“I would, you know.” Jisung admits. “I'd do it for you.”
Minho does know, and maybe that's the worst part.
* * *
Movie dates have always been corny in Minho's opinion, but somehow, of course, everything is fun if he does it with Jisung.
They whisper quietly throughout, making sure not to bother anyone else, their faces so close together they're almost touching.
Jisung's fingers brush against his, and Minho’s heart turns into a show of fireworks when their fingers intagle.
He can't help but feel determined, somehow, because hidden in Minho's email inbox lies an offer to his dream job, he hasn't responded yet, but now he knows that he won't accept.
* * *
They end up going to Minho’s apartment to get away from the noise of the cafe, the walk there is silent, almost awkward.
Minho’s cats remember Jisung, because of course they would.
“I’ve missed you,” Jisung coos at Dori, scratching behind his ears like he knows Dori loves it.
Minho sighs quietly around the growing lump in his throat.
“They’ve missed you, too.”
Jisung looks up at him from where he’s crouching down to greet the cats, something almost wistful in his eyes.
Suddenly Minho can’t stand it.
“You chose him,” he says, because it needs to be stressed. “You wanted to be with him.”
Jisung’s eyebrows pull together and he stands up, level with Minho. He looks as angry as Minho has ever seen him, hurt and confused and–
“Not for the rest of my life!”
Surprise freezes Minho still, his fingertips start tingling. “Jisung…”
“I didn’t know what else to do, I knew you were leaving and Hyunjin fit so well into the space I knew you'd create so I just– I let him fit into it.”
Somewhere in between his heart and his gut, right where his intuition sits, Minho already knew all of this.
“It’s like you’re haunting me,” Jisung continues, calmer, almost somber. “I can’t get that look in your eyes out of my head.”
“What look?”
Jisung looks at him, doe eyes of an hurt animal.
“The one that makes you look like you could love me”
Minho doesn’t hesitate. It's the truth, after all.
“I do,”
* * *
The shock of finding out Jisung and Hyunjin are dating comes as such a punch to the gut that Minho loses all sense of control over anything in his life.
He's been suspicious for weeks, but he knows he can get paranoid over things like these, so he's just been telling himself it's nothing.
He's been telling himself that the way Jisung and Hyunjin look at each other doesn't mean anything, that the way they stay back and talk sometimes is just them being friends, regardless of how it may look to Minho’s jealous heart.
He finally finds out from a pair of interns at the company. He overhears them talking by the vending machine, about how apparently Hyunjin broke up with his long term boyfriend and is now pursuing Jisung.
That in itself wouldn't be so bad, Minho doesn't love it, obviously, but it'd be fine.
What's not fine, however, is that Jisung went along with it. Allowed himself to be swept off his feet.
The confrontation is ugly.
“Were you ever gonna tell me?” Minho hisses when he finally finds Jisung alone. “Or were you two just gonna ignore the problem until I fucked off?”
Jisung is panicked, scrambling to explain. “You’re leaving , I thought– I heard about the new offer.”
“I wasn’t gonna accept it,” venom drips from every word, “but I don't really wanna stay now.”
“How long have you known?” Jisung asks, heartbreak is written all over his face, and something like defeat settles in Minho's stomach.
“I’ve suspected it for a few weeks, didn’t know until for sure until now, though”
He sees the question before it's spoken. “I saw the way you looked at him,” he says, “you used to look at me like that, but then you just stopped.”
Jisung's eyes are glassy and beautiful, full of unshed tears. Minho’s own sting.
“I thought you were leaving,”
Minho sighs.
“I am.”
* * *
Minho has dreamt of kissing Jisung for years at this point. He's spent so much time thinking and dreaming and wishing for it, that he'd been half convinced he already knew how it'd feel.
Of course, he'd been wrong.
Jisung's lips are soft and fits against his own like they belong there.
Minho's head isn't spinning, there are no fireworks, but something falls into place in his chest. Something soft and precious.
“I still love you,” Jisung whispers like a secret into the pocket of air between them.
Minho's heart cracks enough to let some of the hope in, maybe, just maybe, this isn't doomed after all.
He leans away from Jisung, watches his face, the emotions displayed.
“You have some things to do, then.”
Jisung nods, sniffles like he always does when he cries.
“I know, and I will, I'll go home and talk to him right now.”
“What a mess,” Minho sighs.
“I'm sorry,” Jisung responds.
There's not much else to say, really.
It's gonna be messy, at least for a while until the dust settles, but Minho has missed him so much.
It bothered him for months, the part of him that missed Jisung, because while half of his heart longed, the other half ached with betrayal. No part of it was ready to forgive him.
Now after Jisung's finally asked for his forgiveness, it's almost surprising how easy it feels to give it.
Maybe a secret part of Minho's heart has been waiting for this all along.
* * *
Minho never found out exactly what Jisung told Hyunjin that day, just that they spoke, and Hyunjin wasn't surprised at all.
He wasn't very happy about it, obviously, but part of him seemed to have been waiting for this, too. He knew it was always going to be temporary- for both of them.
The first few months afterwards were strange, getting used to each other again was almost uncomfortable at times, but time and patience led Minho and Jisung forward, towards a future that might be a bit brighter.
Around Minho's wrist hangs a silver bracelet once again, a well loved cat charm glinting in sunlight. A symbol of sorts, that they'll keep each other's treasures safe.
Jisung's fingers rest in the spaces between Minho’s like they belong there, and finally, finally, they do.