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“Sung, are you in here?” Minho’s voice reverberates against the walls of the empty house, with nothing but silence to answer him in return.
The house had been a pure contrast of such serenity all evening, with bustling voices and chatters enveloping its every corner as they spent hours crouched over the dinner table with their guests. It wasn’t that Minho and Jisung’s house wasn’t loud on usual days because if all the times Jisung had to block his ears off were any proof, then one might refer to this as one of their calmer days. Yet, tonight was different.
The chatter of the night didn’t seem to be accepted by these walls as much as Minho’s laughter and Jisung’s rambling usually was; instead, every chuckle was quick to resound its way as a mocking scoff and every word bounced back as a dagger aimed at the residents. There was noise here, and noise there—but not a second of it was lively, like all the times Minho remembers their house to be. And knowing Jisung, knowing him the way Minho does, he isn’t too fond of moments that dare to threaten the place he calls his safe haven.
“Jisung?” Minho anxiously calls out again, trying to level his voice in an attempt to not set off his boyfriend’s nerves more. “Jagiya, please just let me know if you need me?”
That is, if he’s even here to hear Minho.
Minho shuts down the door to their room for the third time within the span of the last five minutes, with the hope inside him crushing. As if persistence was supposed to have his back, as if it was supposed to have Jisung materialize from the depths of his heart into space close enough for him to reach out.
He hasn’t seen Jisung for over half an hour now; not since the younger stormed off the dinner table with a mumbled declaration of being full. There were glances exchanged and fires to put out, and Minho couldn’t let Jisung’s world burn down. Even if it meant intentionally letting the air walk away from him and letting himself go up in smoke, for all he needed Jisung to feel free from these flames.
A need so cardinally etched into him that Minho didn’t even realize the struggles when he made it out of the battle alive. And with the people now gone, all he needed to find was Jisung—not to have him revere Minho for his victory, but for Minho to make sure that his sanctuary remained unharmed.
He is in the process of making a second round of their humble apartment, when Jisung’s shoes missing from the threshold strike him like a flicker of understanding. At this time of the night, with his burdened head and cumbersome steps, there was only one place Jisung could go.
It barely takes a minute for Minho to put on his sneakers thereon, and rush out the door; his steps leading him to the location habitually. The only time his memory seems to stutter is when he regards the emptiness of his palm, which feels foreign against all the times he walks down this road with Jisung’s fingers entwined into his.
It’s a relief that Minho doesn’t get too much time to linger in the misery of it all, for soon enough he’s standing on the muddy soil with eyes fixated on his dearest. His boyfriend sits there on one of the swings in the playground—kicking his feet slightly off the ground to rise higher beyond the fears that claw at his holy grails.
“Jisungie!” Minho calls out loudly to his heart’s content as he runs down the distance separating them, only to come to a stop in front of Jisung’s widened eyes. A sight so fond that Minho can’t help break down into a soft giggle, as he settles down into the swing next to him. “Hi, I missed you.”
“It’s been a few minutes,” Jisung deadpans, knowing well enough it doesn’t do shit for Minho’s sentiment—out and about in all its glory.
“I know. I missed you.”
He watches as Jisung gives up the fight, resorting to a fond shake of his head; the one that’s adorned with a shy smile evident enough for Minho to know his feelings are reciprocated.
Minho doesn’t try to pull at anything after that though, busying himself with the rocking of his own swing. He tries his level best to get it to match Jisung’s rhythm, and he’s just so close, when he hears the younger’s voice surrounding him. All of his dedication thereon shifts, as he turns his body as much as possible, to focus every being of senses onto the man in front of him.
If Jisung was ready to talk, Minho wasn’t going to waste a second being unprepared to listen.
“Did they leave?” he hears Jisung say in an almost whisper, the younger’s eyes refusing to meet Minho.
And it pains him, for he can’t stand to lose the sight of the galaxy inside Jisung’s gaze. Especially not right now when he sits under the night sky and realizes just how less its glory speaks to him. Yet, all he settles for right now is a hum—answering Jisung being his utmost priority.
“I’m sorry I left you alone,” Jisung sucks in a deep breath, as his own swing loses its momentum; the stillness allowing Minho to catch a glimpse of the tears forming at the corner of his eyes. “I know it’s my responsibility to deal with things like this, especially when it comes to my parents but I couldn’t stand it anymore, hyung. I couldn’t sit there and hear them tear down everything we have built over the last five years in the name of ‘trying out new things’.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, jagiya.”
“I do—I have so much and this is just one of them,” he hears Jisung’s voice crack and it takes everything in him to not gather his beloved in his arms right that second. “You deserve so much better than a coward who runs away when things get hard. You deserve someone who can announce how much he loves you in front of his parents—someone who doesn’t hide his engagement ring with his sleeves and instead goes about letting everyone know that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Someone who can celebrate you to the fullest.”
Minho doesn’t even know what gets to him—if it is Jisung’s melancholic tone or his refusal to cross the bare space between them. It’s something about this moment though which strips him down to his anxiety, and makes him wonder if his nightmare is coming to life in the middle of a darkened playground.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
Those aren’t the most thoughtful of Minho’s words, but they seem to get Jisung’s attention as the younger flits his gaze to his fiance’s face urgently.
“What?” Jisung sputters out in a hurry, eyes never leaving Minho’s alone for a second as if any more wasted time was capable of snatching away all the beautiful things in his life. “Ofcourse not, I wouldn’t even dream of that. We’re engaged and you’re stuck with me for the rest of our lives, hyung, and nothing changes that. I mean it—nothing.”
“Good, I wasn’t planning on letting you break up with me anyways,” Minho feigns nonchalance, as if his heart hadn’t been pounding inside his chest mere seconds ago.
“Letting me, huh? What ideas did you have in mind?”
“Why, are you curious? Haven’t you heard that curiosity is bad, Sungie?”
“You sure as hell don’t seem to believe that in other scenarios,” Jisung quirks up his eyebrow, catching Minho so off-guard with the insinuation that all the older can do is process it for seconds. “But alright, hyung. I’ll let this one off the hook.”
At the end, all it does is reaffirm his faith though—that he’s marrying the right man. One made for him, fitting in oh so perfectly like the last piece of a puzzle.
“I’m not going to regard that with a response right now but just know that you’re a menace.”
“You put a ring on it.”
“And I would do it again,” Minho huffs, as he gets up from his swing to instead kneel down in front of Jisung’s and take the other’s hands in his own. “Now, listen to me, alright?”
“Before you start—yes or no to inputs?” Jisung smiles as he eases himself with every caress Minho’s thumb lands on his palm.
It’s a thing that they have for serious talks—where one of them clarifies if they’re allowed to jump in with interjections of any kind. Knowing Jisung, Minho knows better to choose the latter for he is familiar with all the objections his partner would have to the things he’s about to say.
“Just hear me out for now,” he tightens his grip on the younger’s hands, before settling for a direct look at Jisung’s eyes. And God, it brings his wandering heart home, as a sigh escapes his lips. “Jisungie, there is nothing you are obliged to do when it comes to our relationship. You can be happy, you can be sad. You can be scared on the days when the world threatens to fall apart and I’ll gladly hold it up for you.”
“I know you don’t recognize your strength most times but you do that for me every waking second, and what is love if not this?” Minho’s gaze softens, as he reaches out to wipe away the hint of a tear from Jisung’s eyes. “And you can’t expect to love me all by yourself, you know? My love for you is that selfish too—it wants to be a shoulder for you to cry on, a hand to help you get back up and a pillar to hold you up. And I can promise you, that amongst all this, you have nothing to be afraid of. It isn’t fragile, not after all these years.”
He watches as the fight rises in Jisung’s throat—edging and kicking to verbalize itself into existence—but Jisung’s the last thing from the weak. He fights against it, instead reciprocating Minho’s grip with strength of his own, and chooses to put his trust in a person that protects him like his very own honor.
And Minho? He has always been an admirer of Jisung’s resolve from the moment he scratched the surface. He has always been thankful to Jisung for letting him in, and he doesn’t waste any chance to put his gratitude into practice; his body raising itself higher from where he had been kneeling on the ground to press a featherlight kiss on Jisung’s cheek.
By the time he plucks himself away from the honey-like sweetness of Jisung’s skin to resume his old position, Jisung already has a soft yet unwavering smile hanging off the corner of his lips. His eyes refuse to peel themselves away from Minho, and Minho shines under their spotlight gladly—seeing himself become the center of Jisung’s attention from all the cruelties and curses of this world.
“I wish you would’ve met me when I was younger,” he watches as Jisung tilts his head to the side, a dreamscape pulling his voice into a dreamy slur.
Despite all the times Minho has fallen asleep with that thought, all he does is giggle at this moment; inching closer to Jisung until there’s barely a speck of space between them. He knows his pants would be stained with sand all over by now, but he fears not a bit of rationality dares to tower over his brain when his heart’s busy falling in love deeper.
“Five years have been too little for you, huh?”
“Undeniably.”
“Well, it’s a relief that we have our entire lifetimes going forward now, isn’t it?”
“The only good thing in my life after you,” Jisung hums in utmost conviction, and it stays that way for a few seconds. That is, until the joy of that promise flickers and another wave of sadness settles on the creases forming against his forehead. “But I still stand by my statement.”
“And what’s your reasoning?” Minho digs in deeper, inherently expectant of a heartwarming and sappy monologue from Jisung’s side.
Jisung must see it on his face—of course he does, just like always. He never lets Minho know just what it is that gives him away, protecting the secret as if it’s worth nobody’s knowledge but his alone. And while it leaves Minho to guess if it’s blush breaking out on the tip of his ears or his eyes twitching uncontrollably, he doesn’t find it in himself to pester the younger; not when it means that Jisung’s the only one capable of breaking him apart and reading him open like a fairytale.
“I don’t have a logical one,” he watches Jisung faintly begin with a deep breath. “I just wish you would’ve met the younger me—he was a lot more fearless. He was kinder and softer, so much more hopeful and proudly loud about the things he liked. I can bet you he wouldn’t hesitate to declare our engagement to his parents. Instead, he’d paint the town and dance around the streets announcing it with so much pride.”
“He would’ve treated you so royally, so much better than me. And it hurts me that he didn’t get to meet you because you would’ve loved to be loved by him, hyung.”
No matter how much Minho thinks he’s prepared with Jisung though, he gets proven wrong every time. He should’ve learned that the night Jisung took him back to their first date spot, Namsan tower, on their fifth anniversary expecting a trip down memory lane only to be paralyzed by his boyfriend getting down on one knee in the middle of the crowd. It would’ve been easier if he learned from his mistakes, but it’s a difficult thing to do when falling into the trap leaves him feeling so heavenly and adored every damn time.
“He sounds like an absolute delight,” Minho leisurely smiles, doing nothing to hide the tears that threaten to make themselves known. “I can bet my heart that younger Minho would’ve loved him till the end of the world.”
“I know,” Jisung chokes out against a sob, closing his eyes as his fingers trace the platinum band gracing Minho’s ring finger.
And even with the younger’s lids guarding him from Minho’s eyes, Minho can sense the hint of shame pooling in the pit of Jisung’s stomach.
“This Minho right now though?” he begins preemptively, waiting until the silence urges Jisung to open his eyes and search for further answers himself. “He already has the version of you that treats him royally and better than he ever imagined. The one who is brave enough to fight for us every day and dares to propose to him atop a tower amongst a crowd; even though both of those things scare him to death.”
“Excuse me, I am not scared of heights or people,” Jisung huffs out of nowhere, earning a giggle out of Minho as his memory flashes back to their first date.
Jisung has been trying to give him the best, against his own fears, since very then.
“Sure, big guy. You have me convinced always,” he swoons further as a pout settles onto Jisung’s lips—not the sad kind, but the one that comes across a childish defense that’s strong enough to leave Minho defeated. “That is however not the point I’m getting to, so hush. Instead, what I need you to know is that I already have the Jisung who I love to be loved by.”
“Even when I run away from heights and parents, leaving you alone?”
“Especially when you run away from heights and parents, because I’ll come with you,” Minho smiles, letting Jisung free his hands and instead find their new home in his hair. “On days that I can’t, I’ll wait for you at our home.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart. Now let’s go home, shall we?”