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feriluce · 1 month ago

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⟪What's Left Of You⟫ Chapter 14-The Days | Minsung

Flashes of lightning. Crackling yellow. Static.

Everything was spinning. Waves of nausea crashed into Jisung.

Heavy.

I can't move.

Noise. Voices were calling out from every direction.

Cold air was pushed down his lungs. At first there was nothing, then everything at once. Jisung's vision snapped into focus. There's Minho, why is he over me?

"Just breathe, I'm here," Minho whispered with tears in his eyes as he touched Jisung's face.

I'm cold, what's going on, please take my hand, it's so heavy, I can't reach... can't reach, can't- see... Minho!

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Dripping, slowly dripping. Drops of Jisung's consciousness trickled down a narrow well. Echoing along stone walls. Collecting at the bottom into a puddle.

A beeping sound brought Jisung out of the quiet nothingness, his eyes fluttered open and everything was blurred, sending a wave of dizziness through his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and blinked until his vision began clearing up.

White sheets, a white wall in front of him- Jisung was in a hospital room. The lighting was dim, falling into the room through not fully closed blinds.

How did I get here?

His body was heavy as he tried to sit up, and only now did he notice the mask on his face. And the several tubes and cables attached to him.

What happened?

The beeping picked up pace and suddenly the room was flooded in blinding white light. He blinked, and realized it was only the lamp above his head. Minho's face came into view.

"You're awake," he whispered relieved, taking Jisung's hand and brushing the hair from his face. Jisung opened his mouth to talk but his throat was dry and hurt as if he'd been screaming. Nothing but a puff of air left his lungs. "It's alright, love, I'm here, you don't have to say anything." Minho sniffled, his eyes were swimming with too many emotions.

Jisung was still confused and nothing made sense, but at least he was alive and Minho was right here.

He brought a hand up to gently run his fingers over Minho's cheek. Dark circles loomed beneath his eyes. "What happened?" Jisung asked quietly, his voice was weak.

"What do you remember?"

Jisung's throat itched with the impulse telling Minho to get fucked for answering a question with a counter question. But there was a dull sensation somewhere in the back of his mind, warning him to, for once, not act on his impulses. And so he took a deep breath and searched through his muddled brain, trying to recall the last memories. "I... I was getting ready for the concert. You were with me. We somehow got out of the camp, and then..." He shrugged one shoulder, indicating that this was all he knew.

Minho sat down on a chair next to the bed, taking Jisung's hands into his- they were cold. "On the way to meet your friend at the station, you collapsed." Minho's voice quivered, forcing tears down and words out. "He called the ambulance, they said you had a seizure-" A wet sigh shuddered out of his chest. Minho was visibly struggling to keep talking, the air grew thick and heavy with dreadful anticipation.

One moment Jisung was walking perfectly fine, then the next he woke up in this bed. Having no recollection of what happened since then, however long that was, was now Jisung's number one of his most terrifying experiences.

"Where am I?" Jisung asked.

"Back in Seoul," Minho answered.

"How long have I been here?"

A light lit up from below the bed, a phone casting a blueish glow on Minho's face. He sniffled. And hesitated. "Three days."

Jisung flinched on the inside. He did not like the state he was in, he did not like how his body felt, how confused he was.

"You were in a coma," Minho added, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Why?" Jisung asked. A simple question, only one word, yet the hardest to answer. Minho knew the answer, Jisung knew that he knew. He could tell by how his eyes widened ever so slightly, how he gulped and glanced away.

"They ran some tests. They put you in that giant tube that takes pictures of your brain, and they found something. I don't remember the word, way too many letters." Minho's grip on Jisung's hand grew stronger. "Th- there's a tumor in your brain."

The world fell into an abrupt silence, drained of all colors, time ceased to exist. A freezing cold wave washed over Jisung, pulling him down and drowning him.

In movies and TV shows, most of the time the characters broke down, either falling to their knees hysterically crying, or yelling at the doctor to run another test.

Jisung did neither. He was just lying there, feeling nothing at all. There was a black hole in his stomach and it had devoured any and all emotion.

Minho noticed the silent tear running down Jisung's cheek, he was quick to wipe it away with his thumb.

The door swung open and a nurse and a doctor entered, making Minho leave the room to give Jisung some privacy as he was being examined.

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Minho's diary:

Jisung just woke up. I'm happy to have him back.

The doctors say the tumor in his brain stem is...incurable.

I'm scared.

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Felix was here. He radiated a hopeful calm, illuminating the room in a soft golden shimmer. He sat down in the only chair available, taking over from Minho to keep Jisung company. Felix's eyes trailed after Minho leaving the room.

"He's been here the whole time, you know," Felix said when they were among themselves.

Jisung stretched, which caused his elbow to crack. "Huh?"

"Minho. While you were sound asleep, he never left your side. Even got into an argument with the nursing staff."

Jisung could feel his cheeks grow warm. "I wasn't sleeping, I was in a coma" he muttered.

Felix chuckled lightly, turning to his best friend. "You must mean a lot to him."

"You would do the same for me, wouldn't you?"

"During the day I wouldn't leave your side, my friend, but at night I go home."

Glancing out the window, Jisung couldn't hold back the smile that was tugging on the corner of his lips. "If one good thing came out of that lousy camp, it was meeting Minho."

A couple days have passed in which Jisung received his first treatment to destroy the tumor in his brain. It was scary, to say the least, but afterwards he felt great. It was the subsequent treatment to rebuild damaged cells that made him vomit his guts out.

Later that day, his grandmother came to pick him up and bring him back home. She had everything arranged, from medical devices to a live-in nurse. Typical Chae-Won.

Jisung felt the trickling sensation of gratitude coursing through his chest. How nice to be surrounded by people who cared about him; his grandmother, his best friend Felix, and Minho, his-

"Can we be boyfriends?"

Minho looked up from where he was cuddled up beside Jisung. He was a bit shocked, to be honest, he didn't expect such a question. "Boyfriends?"

"Yeah. I mean, we kissed, we did things," he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at Minho, "and I'm in love with you, so it's only natural to take things to the next level."

Minho blinked rapidly. His heart grew wings and fluttered away. "Okay, yeah, let's be boyfriends."

Jisung felt like kicking his feet. Moving a bit up in bed, he wrapped his arms around Minho's neck and leaned in. Kissing Minho still gave him butterflies.

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The camp's supervisor, Pyong Sumi, has been arrested and charged with the murder of Choi Yu-Seung, the camp's social worker. She faced life imprisonment.

As investigations progressed, divers found her body on the bottom of a lake, near an inn that was run by an old married couple. The couple was clueless in all of this, hard of hearing or simply struggling with the country's language, but at least their food was unparalleled.

Tang Iseul, colleague and accomplice to Pyong Sumi, a wanted criminal, was still on the run.

The young people, who had to attend this camp for their offenses, were free to return home and would not face any legal consequences.

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"Minho, dear, do you have a moment? I'd like to talk to you in private."

"Of course, Chae-Won, what's the matter?"

"I feel so guilty and I can't keep it to myself anymore. While Jisung was attending the camp, I met up with his father. Do you know about their relationship."

"Only that it's non-existent."

"That sums it up. He left Jisung when he was very young and I took him under my wing. Long story short, I invited his father to sort out things regarding my testament. It was planned, it aligned perfectly with the camp."

"So you knew he wasn't able to keep up his end of the deal?"

"Of course, Minho dear, I'm a business woman. But if I had known- if only I had known he-"

"You couldn't have possibly known, Chae-Won. Don't beat yourself up about it."

"Thank you. Truth is, Jisung's father sees no need in rekindling his relationship with his son. That's why I'm so grateful that he has you by his side, you're meant for each other."

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A month has passed, Minho, along with his three cats, now practically lived with Jisung in his grandmother's mansion.

The treatments were affecting Jisung, his mental health suffered just as much as his physical health. His hair was falling out.

The second treatment was always the worst. As much as it pained Minho to see his boyfriend like that, he continued to show up with a smile on his face and a shoulder to lean on.

Day after day.

Night after night.

Week after week.

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The whole house smelled of delicious food. Glasses clinked and lively laughter filled the high rooms. Chuseok. If you asked Jisung, this was his favorite time of the year, right after Christmas.

"I think I might explode," Jisung whined, unbottoning his jeans and rubbing both hands over his full belly.

Minho laughed. "No one forced you to eat a whole bowl of songpyeon!"

Songpyeon - half-moon shaped rice cake, stuffed with sweetened sesame seed filling.

Jisung whined even louder as he stood up from the table. Minho supported him as they walked up the stairs to his bedroom, changing into more comfier clothes, and placing a soft pillow between Jisung's thin legs as he helped him into bed. The live-in nurse had taught Minho how he could assist Jisung more effectively, simple things such as putting on his socks when he was too weak.

Minho was about to move away from the bed when Jisung grasped his sleeve. "Stay with me, please," Jisung requested.

"Of course, love."

Minho quickly changed into comfortable clothes. In bed, he threw a big fuzzy blanket over them both, Jisung giggled happily as he snuggled into Minho's warmth.

Jisung kissed Minho's cheek. "Can you read something to me?"

Minho, the ever blushing mess, returned the kiss. "Sure, what would you like?"

In recent days it has become a habit for Minho to read to Jisung, it didn't matter what, he just found it easier falling asleep to the soft tunes of Minho's voice.

Jisung hummed. "How about... the poem you wrote in sixth grade."

"Why that?" Minho groaned.

Innocent eyes and a shoulder shrug.

"Fine."

Minho never denied Jisung a request. Grabbing his journal, he opened the first page where he found his very first entry, a poem about blue bananas.

Jisung listened attentively. Then, he turned to look up at Minho, their eyes met. "I love you, Minho, I love you so much."

"And I love you, Jisung."

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The days became shorter and windier. Leaves changed from green to yellow to orange to brown. Everything was changing. For the longest time, it looked like Jisung would recover, the treatments were still exhausting, but he was awake more often, walking around the house with Minho, chatting away with the house staff.

On a particularly sunny afternoon they enjoyed tea and cookies in the garden. Birds were chirping a merry tune, a pair of dancing butterflies fluttered by. The light shimmered in golden hues, reflecting beautifully on Jisung's skin. Moon, the youngest of Minho's cats, rubbed against Jisung's legs, then hopped up into his lap, curling into a fluffy, purring ball.

The seams of fate seemed to loosen, only to have Jisung crash the next day. Bedridden, too weak to even hold a paper cup. Minho took a break from going to university, he couldn't even bear the thought of leaving Jisung all alone.

One night, Jisung jerked awake. Confused, distressed, still half asleep, he didn't hear Minho trying to soothe him. Minutes passed before Jisung was able to calm down.

"I'm sorry," Jisung whispered, his voice was thin.

"It's alright, love."

Minho held Jisung close to his heart. If he could, he would imbed him there, just to know he was safe.

"I had a nightmare, I... I was trapped in this black hole- I thought you were gone."

Minho's heart squeezed when Jisung started crying. "I'm not going anywhere, I'll always be here with you."

Suppressing his own tears, Minho pulled his one true love closer, reciting Jisung's favorite poem.

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Minho's diary:

Winter came, and Jisung left.

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#minsung #minsung fic #minsung fanfiction #han #han jisung #lee know #lee minho #skz #stray kids

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feriluce · 1 month ago

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⟪What's Left Of You⟫ Chapter 13-The Seams of Fate | Minsung

*Brace yourselves...

Jisung blinked. Words blurred together, slipping in and out of focus, up to the point where none made sense anymore. Rubbing his eyes, Jisung sat up.

"Something wrong, love?" Minho's voice sounded muffled, like through several layers of clothing.

Jisung's phone slipped from weak fingers when he brought his other hand to his face. "My eyes feel weird."

Bed sheets rustled, the mattress dipped, Minho was shifting around. "Can I see?"

Jisung couldn't stop rubbing his eyes; it was like back then a few years ago when he wore colored contacts to match his Halloween costume, maybe they were the wrong size or an allergic reaction, but either way his eyes felt not right back then and they did not now. The only difference was, that there was a dull pressure somewhere in the back, it was strange, even more so that he didn't feel any pain. Just very uncomfortable.

Warm hands wrapped around his wrists and slowly pulled them down. Jisung's vision was so blurred, he could only recognize Minho by the shadowy outlines of his body in front of him. Squeezing his eyes shut and taking some deep breaths, he allowed himself to relax.

When he opened his eyes again, he met Minho's worried gaze. "Are you in pain?" A very soft, almost anxious question, Jisung's heart pinched.

Jisung shook his head. "I'm okay, I probably need more sleep," he tried soothing Minho, and convince himself that he was fine and not starting to freak out on the inside.

Minho didn't seem to buy it, his face held a tension that was new to Jisung. "Your eyes are a bit red. Could be from the rubbing though." He hummed pensively, eyes flicking over Jisung's face, not noticing how his hands were nervously fidgeting.

"It's probably just another clusterfuck migraine waiting to burst, you know how it is with me," a loose laugh, "I already feel much better."

Minho glanced at the bedside table where the pills were.

"Can you give me one, please?" Jisung's request drew his cabinmate's eyes back to him.

"Of course." The smile clearly came out forced, he was trying to hide the growing worry.

Minho got to his feet and prepared the medication along with a bottle of water. Jisung downed the pill with half of the bottle's content in one go. He even opened his mouth and playfully wiggled his tongue to either side, which thankfully made Minho laugh a bit.

They cuddled back into bed and Jisung quickly fell asleep, being questioned by the police earlier took quite a lot out of him. Any and all activities have been canceled for today, so the pair stayed in their cabin, talking about anything that came to their mind, playing games on the (stolen) console, and sharing sweet physical affections.

Minho closed his eyes, making an effort to consciously enjoy the sound of Jisung's even breathing, the warmth his back provided on his chest, and the subtle honey scent.

Minho appreciated the bond he was able to form with Jisung. He's never been that close with anyone, not even with his best friend, Chan, and they knew each other since elementary school. Maybe this was one of those events where people's paths crossed because the universe decided so. He vaguely remembered an article about such concept from another culture, something like... fate?

As his mind started wandering off, Minho suddenly jolted wide awake. There was loud hammering against the door. Jisung, caught in the drowsiness of the medication's side effect, threw his arms out and almost punched Minho in the face.

"Shh, it's alright," Minho whispered soothingly, holding Jisung in his arms, "it'll go away, I'm here."

Whispered words and a gentle hand caressing Jisung's hair. Soon enough, the knocking stopped. After a few minutes, Jisung's body slowly relaxed once again and his breathing evened out. It was an easy thing to say how peaceful Jisung looked while lying there, how his cute hamster cheeks were all puffed up, and how this sweet mouth was slightly parted- those soft lips that could spew the wildest things, those lips that Minho found hard to resist. For some reason, something deep down in Minho wanted to take a closer look, to look beyond this cute, peaceful appearance. Minho huffed through his nose, knowing his mother would immediately see through Jisung and call him an actor, or something like that. Jisung put up walls, that much was clear, and Minho was curious to look behind.

Minho pulled Jisung closer as a sudden cold wave rippled down his back. With a pounding heart, his eyes flew open once again, quickly noticing movement by the window. Someone was trying to peak inside, Minho almost let out a shout when he recognized the person- it was their supervisor, that woman from the train. If he read her ID badge correctly, her name must have been Pyong Sumi.

The hairs on Minho's arms stood up. There was something crazy about Sumi's gaze, something that made the alarm bells in his head ring out when her eyes fell on Jisung cuddled up in his arms. When their eyes met, Minho glowered at her, and that was all he could do in this situation.

After what felt like an eternity, the supervisor finally disappeared. Minho let out a heavy sigh of relief, pulling Jisung even closer to his chest, into his heart.

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Felix Tonight's the night Await our arrival at 4 sharp

Frowning at his best friends cryptic message, Jisung stopped on his way to the bathroom. It took him way too long to remember that in just a few hours he was about to witness the event of a lifetime: HoChi's concert.

HoChi - Homeless Children. Jisung's absolute favorite K-Pop-Band, they were back in town and Jisung was still trapped in this camp, wearing wrinkled clothes, unshowered, unprepared. His movements were rushed and a bit clumsy as he showered and did all the things that made him more 'presentable human' and less 'smelly troll'.

The cabin door swung open and Minho stepped inside, heading directly for the desk where he put down tubs full of food.

Jisung sniffed the air when Minho opened the largest tub. "That smells divine," he praised, mouth already watering, "is this tteokbokki?"

Minho glanced back over his shoulder, smiling. "You guessed right, now sit down and dig in."

"Don't mind if I do."

Jisung snickered in delight as he took the chopsticks Minho was handing him. Minho opened the window to let out steam and smell, then he finally joined Jisung in this delicious feast.

They say that every villain, every hero had a weakness. Jisung's weakness was definitely food, offer him a carrot and he'd approach you like a shy squirrel. That is as far as the hero thing was concerned. As a villain, his weakness would be spicy food. Food - his curse and his blessing.

Laughing on the inside at his own jokes, Jisung shoved a generous portion of the flavored rice cakes into his mouth. He let his eyes wander and eventually land on Minho, smiling fondly at the recent memories of being taken such good care of. What weakness would Minho have? Pets or animals in general was out of the question, since he was a butler to three cats. He was immune to extreme flavors such as spicy and sour. Maybe it was something unexpected like screaming children or…

Jisung's mind fell silent when he locked eyes with Minho, not realizing he was staring this whole time. He blushed furiously.

"Do I have something between my teeth?" Minho wondered, shoveling rice directly from the tub into his mouth.

"N-no, no." Great, now he was stuttering. Breathe, be normal.

Minho smirked, something he did way too often. "Then why are you looking at me so intensely?"

"I just like you so much."

Minho blushed, smiling ever so fondly with sparkling eyes. "I like you too, Jisung."

The joy Jisung felt was overpowering, he felt both the need to burst into tears and scream. He leaned back, a thought was forming in his head. "Minho?"

Minho kept eating, not bothering to look up. "Yeah?"

"A friend of mine is going to get me out of here. We're going to a concert. Wanna join?"

Now Minho looked up. "How? The gates are locked. And the police is still everywhere."

Jisung glanced to the side, biting his lip. "I'll figure it out. You have two options, you can either come with me, or..." he looked around, "or you tell me what you're writing in your diary. So, what do you say?"

Minho's eyes narrowed. "Are you blackmailing me?"

"Maybe." Jisung smirked and goddamn did it feel good.

Minho remained silent for a long minute, shifting around thoughts of which scenario would be less stressful or embarrassing. "Just so you know, it's a journal, not a diary," he finally said, "and it helps me sort through my thoughts."

"What kind of thoughts?"

Curiosity was spelled J-I-S-U-N-G. Minho should have known.

"Come on, Minho, give me something, anything," Jisung whined with pleading eyes, "I'm bored out of my mind, and you clearly don't want to leave. What's your first entry? No wait," Jisung quickly added, the curious sparkle in his eyes intensifying, "what's your last entry?"

Minho glanced away, swallowing a nervous giggle that was already bubbling in his chest. His last entry? Definitely not about Jisung.

Stacking the empty tubs and closing the window, Minho stalled time. When he saw the overly smug grin curving Jisung's lips, he groaned, and relented. "Tell you what, if you find a way that gets us out of here undetected, then I'll come with you."

Jisung's eyes lit up. "Promise?"

"Promise.

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Jisung leaned over the sink, the tip of his nose almost touching the mirror. Holding his hand steady, he drew a perfect smokey eye, not too much to be 'slutty', but also not too little that it disappeared under his eyelids. One last check, he wore a pair of black, straight cut jeans with decorative chains dangling from the side, a tank top under a long-sleeved fishnet top, and his hair was styled with extra strong hairspray. One spritz of his favorite cologne. Perfect.

He quickly put everything back into his cosmetic bag, the constant ding ding ding from his phone could only mean that Felix was on his way and hyping him up.

"You're really going, huh?"

Jisung looked up, meeting Minho's gaze through the mirror. "Damn right I am." His heart suddenly fluttered, the way Minho was staring at him was... something. Turning around, he stepped closer to Minho and opened his mouth to offer doing his makeup too, but... Minho's eyes had Jisung in a stranglehold.

Minho brought up a hand to gently caress Jisung's cheek. "You look pretty," he whispered.

If his heart wasn't fluttering before, it definitely was now. No one has ever called him pretty, not in such a genuine and loving way. Seconds ticked by where the pair just stared at each other, the air felt warmer, the gravitational pull of fate drawing them even closer.

A loud interval of ding ding ding startled them both out of their trance, bursting the bubble. Blushing and smiling like idiots, they quickly got ready to leave the cabin, heading towards the main area, where they stopped to see more police cars arriving. One car blocked the gate, preventing it from closing, and Jisung saw his chance.

Taking Minho by the hand, Jisung held his head high as he sauntered towards the gate, looking all confident and not suspicious at all. They were just two young people taking a walk, maybe hide somewhere to spy on the police doing police stuff.

Jisung grinned broadly in anticipation, he looked back over his shoulder, and his face fell when someone shoved Minho aside and grabbed Jisung by the collar.

"Finally! There you finally are!" Pyong Su-something yelled at him, drops of saliva landed on his face. Jisung couldn't feel his feet, as if they were frozen, numb. "I won't let you talk! You ruined everything! Everything!"

At the sudden commotion, all the police officers focused their attention on the woman screaming at a teenager. One of them asked her a couple questions but received no answer. Even Minho tried to pry her hands open, unsuccessfully.

The crazed screaming finally got into Jisung's brain, his muscles jolted alive and he wiggled in the woman's grip.

The atmosphere shifted when an officer approached her, and she suddenly pulled out a large knife. Guns were drawn, raised, aimed.

The woman let go of Jisung who dropped to the ground, immediately scurrying over to Minho.

"Are you hurt?" Minho asked anxiously, pulling the other into his arms.

"I'm okay, just a bit shaken." Jisung looked around, quickly assessing the situation. All the cops seemed to have their eyes on that crazy woman- and the gate was still wide open. "Let's get out of here." He winked at Minho, took him by the hand and dragged him along, speed-walking out of the camp.

Jisung and Minho actually left the camp. They maintained a rather brisk tempo until they were so far down the path through the forest, that they noticed the cooler air, and when they came to a stop, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"I didn't- I didn't think you'd really go through with it," Minho stuttered through fits of laughter.

"And I almost thought you'd nope out."

"Hey, I made a promise, and usually I tend to keep my promises."

Jisung raised a playful brow. "Usually?"

"What can I say, I'm only human." Minho smirked then turned around, facing the other direction. The laughter had subsided, a quiet tingle still remained. "Your friend, is he coming up here?" No answer. Minho turned around to find Jisung rubbing his eyes. "Jisung?"

Jisung quickly stopped rubbing his eyes, even though they felt strange again. "He'll meet us at the station, come on, I don't wanna be late."

Linking their hands again, they followed the path at a reasonable walking speed, the temperature increased once they stepped out of the forest, the chirping of crickets in this area was incredibly loud.

Jisung stood on his tiptoes, and smiled when he spotted Felix's wheat-blond hair in the distance. He suddenly became aware of how his heart was pounding against his rib cage, of droplets of sweat dripping down his back, and why was it getting darker in the middle of the day?

"Minho?" Jisung breathed weakly. "I don't feel so good..."

Minho turned around just in time to catch Jisung before he could hit the ground.

Darkness.

Emptiness.

Cold.

Alone.

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Excerpt from Minho's diary, much later that day:

If fate existed, if it truly existed, then it must be more than an intangible concept, more than a bunch of phrases and sayings. If fate was to exist as a physical entity, I imagine it to manifest as a blanket, its threads entwined with hopes and dreams, and no way to escape. Inseparably connected to each other.

Fate had made us meet, had made me fall in love with you.

Fate gifted me love and happiness, only to rip it out of my hands. The seams of fate sewn over dreams - I'm going to unpick every single one.

#minsung #minsung fic #minsung fanfiction #han #han jisung #lee know #lee minho #skz #stray kids

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feriluce · 1 month ago

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⟪What's Left Of You⟫ Chapter 12-11,5 | Minsung

* This is a scrapped chapter from the previous version, that I like too much to discard entirely. The POV shifts and gives extra knowledge that the main characters don't have. * Enjoy anyways ^^

Back outside, Rambo-cop eyed his partner with an incredulous look. "You see, this is exactly why no one likes you. I couldn't care less about you being an ass to me in private, but this is work, for heaven's sake! Those are teenagers, show some empathy."

Notepad-cop scoffed, finding his partner's speech less-than-rousing. "If that boy can't handle any feedback, why should I-"

"Shut up! One more comment about anything unrelated to our investigation, and I'll have you written up. Consider this as your only warning." He snatched the notepad from the other's hand, flipping through the pages. "We have to be careful, keep our eyes peeled. Now let's try to get something out of the camp's staff."

After ten years of being in active duty, Rambo-cop had developed a sixth sense when it came to gathering information. This boy, Han Jisung, knew something. He had that certain micro-expression of a brainwave when something that had been buried deep suddenly resurfaced. Han Jisung knew something, but he himself didn't know that he knew.

At least not yet.

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Hands were clenched into fists. Knuckles, sharp as razors, dug into her hips; a desperate attempt to suppress the scream that was bubbling in her throat.

They know, they know, they know.

Uncontrolled thoughts were bouncing off the walls of her brain, threatening to break the bone, squeeze through the cracks, and whiz outside with the sole purpose of giving away where she was hiding.

Sumi was pacing around her small bedroom, her feet leaving imprints in the carpeted floor. Her fingernails dug deep into the skin, they drew blood, leaving crescent shaped wounds behind.

The room was filled with hazy white wisps of cigarette smoke, lazily drifting from side to side, catching glittering lint in the early sunlight. They swirled apart when Pyong Sumi stumbled towards her desk, taking a deep drag from the half-burned cigarette, her hands were shaking, unable to keep them still. Her lungs spasmed.

Lately, she hasn't been feeling like herself. How such a small, insignificant, mistake could derail her life- one moment she was fine, and the next she wasn't. You're a disappointment, the voice inside her head scolded. Like shock frosted daggers that scraped against her eardrums, then pierced the tender tissue, sending high-pitched screeches through her skull – and Sumi slumped to the floor. She pulled her knees tightly to her chest, and sobbed like a nine-year-old girl.

Useless! Fat! Shame for the family! You can't live on 'dreams'!

Sumi pressed her hands over her ears, desperately trying to block out the noise. The noise, the endless noise. The piercing cold tone of her mother's voice, the very last thing she heard before she hopped onto the train. Only the sound and the throbbing ache in her ears that came with it.

The train headed for Chuncheon. Towards her dream job. Teaching and guiding young people, who were on the brink of descending into the criminal underworld. Guiding them from darkness to light.

Sumi's life hasn't been a rose petal covered path, it's been tiring, frustrating, and so lonely. But acting the part of a trustworthy and stable adult – surely Sumi had it in her. Sumi was empathetic. Sumi was self-reflective. Sumi wanted to do better.

Her mother, however, would like to disagree.

Sumi was never good enough. Never tall enough, never pretty enough, never quick enough, never thin enough, never smart enough. Never enough of and for anything. One wrong decision after three bad choices, and one day she'd kill someone with her clumsiness.

"I'm sorry," Sumi whimpered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

An apology – to herself, to her mother, to the victim of her clumsiness. An apology – left hanging in the room, in the void, heard by none.

A woman in her mid 40s, still so desperately wanting her mother's approval. Pathetic.

A long vibration pulled her out of the emotional flashback. Her eyes were foggy with tears as she tried to reach for her phone. Shaky hands rubbed over raw eyes, it took a few moments before she recognized the words staring back at her from the display.

Tang Iseul I'm sorry, I had to do it [read]

Pyong Sumi What do you mean? [delivered]

Sumi blinked in confusion. She tapped the green button, calling Iseul. It rang two, three times, then the line cut off. She tried again and her eyebrows creased with even more confusion when an automated voice announced that this number no longer existed.

Tang Iseul, Sumis colleague. This was supposed to be their first year at the camp; both came from an office job at Seoul's government, and after a decade, they craved a change of scenery. During the work training, they hit it off instantly and platonically. They got close.

But apparently not close enough, because obviously Iseul had decided to turn tail and run. She should be grateful for the help he had provided so far. Pitying yourself won't get you anywhere! And for once, her mother was right. She was working for the government, for crying out loud. If she had learned one single thing during her time there, it was the fact that traces can be covered – one just had to know how.

With a newfound will, Sumi slipped into her shoes and left the staff's residence. Striding out far, her ID-card flicked from side to side with every wide step she took, as she marched across the courtyard. But then a voice bellowed her name.

"Pyong Sumi?"

Sumi flinched. From the gate that separated the cabins, two police officers approached her. Breathe, act normal.

"Sorry to bother you so early," the tall and muscular police man dipped his head apologetically, "would you mind answering a question or two?"

"Why?" Her voice came out raspy and heavy, the tiredness from her face had fallen into her vocal cords. Whatever those cops were about to ask, Sumi could handle it. She knew their tactics. Aside from that, who said it was about Yu-

"We have been informed that your colleague, Choi Yu-Seung, is missing."

Her lungs spasmed again, an invisible hand clutched her throat and squeezed out all air. Breathe! Wait for his question. After a few blinking moments, the question followed.

"When have you last seen her?"

Sumi knew exactly when that was. Now she needed to be careful. Technically, she had last seen her this past Saturday – with a slashed throat, wrapped up in tarpaulin, now on the muddy floor of some lake.

"I... It must've been Thursday, yes, we were celebrating her birthday." She nodded, lips tightly pressed together.

The cop turned slightly and pointed towards the building Sumi had come out from. "Is this the staff's residency?"

"Yes."

"Does Choi Yu-Seung have a room there?"

"Yes."

"Where have you been celebrating?"

"The common area on the ground floor. We had cake, a drink-," shit, alcohol was not allowed, it simply slid out of her mouth, "it got late, then everyone went to bed, and that's all I know."

The second cop, scribbling into his notepad, took out his phone. He swiped a thumb over the display, answering a call, and turned away. Sumi's eyes flicked between him and his colleague, the one questioning poor Sumi.

"Who else was present?"

"Just me and Tang Iseul, my coworker. We invited others but no one showed up."

The first cop gave her a polite smile. Did he feel pity? "Thank you, that's all."

Sumi held back a sigh of relief. For a moment she thought the cop had seen through her, but it was just her nerves, just her nerves. When she started walking again, her knees felt like jelly – but not the good kind, like when you're infatuated.

The walk towards the main building, past the front desk, along a hallway, down the stairs, and into the surveillance room at the far back- it felt like hours.

Hours of trying to appear confident in her stride, of resisting the urge to look back over her shoulder, of greeting her colleagues in her usual bright and bubbly way. Why is keeping a secret so exhausting?

Rows of monitors lined the upper edge of the desk. Those were old monitors, but they still worked and got the job done. The laptops were still running on Windows XP. Sumi hit the spacebar and the screensaver disappeared, revealing the interface of the cameras. Footage was stored for one week, chronologically sorted in files.

The incident happened on Thursday, today was Tuesday. Sumi rolled out her shoulders. She had always prided herself in one personality trait: Persistence. Where others had given up, Sumi merely started. She would sit there on this worn-out, nasty rolling chair, with eyes fixated on the flickering screen, her index finger flying over the mouse-wheel. She would sit there, even if it took forever. She would scan hours of video footage. Until she found it. She let the recording roll.

// Thursday, July XX, 6:43pm. // Camera 2.1 // Staff residence, front entrance

Sumi watched herself exiting the building, following right after Iseul. They were arguing, Iseul snapped a branch through the air like a whip- seeing it now from this perspective gave Sumi a weird feeling. Even without audio, his agitated voice still echoed clearly in her mind. The two went back inside. Sumi's eyes trailed off to the side, they were burning and watering from the strain.

After watching it a second time, she froze. Back there, hidden in dense shrubs, a figure crawled out. Sumi zoomed in. It was a boy, slim and lanky, tanned skin. The boy brushed off his pants, he looked around, and when his face turned towards the camera at just the right angle, Sumi gasped. She knew very well who that boy was.

Han Jisung.

Never would she forget the name of this brat. He knows, he knows!

Choi Yu-Seung died around 6:24pm on a hot and humid July evening from anaphylaxis (peanuts) and an accidentally dropped knife to her throat.

Pyong Sumi was clumsy, and her dearly hated mother was absolutely right when she said her daughter's clumsiness would kill someone one day.

Sumi took a deep breath, certain of what she must do next, as she emerged from the basement like a demon ready to strike.

#minsung #minsung fic #minsung fanfiction #han #han jisung #lee know #lee minho #skz #stray kids

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feriluce · 1 month ago

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⟪What's Left Of You⟫ Chapter 11-The Stolen Heart | Minsung

What if it's all a lie?

What if nothing was real? Maybe Jisung has passed away in his sleep and by some miracle ascended to heaven. Or it was a dream, soon reality would force its way back into his consciousness and give him a hefty slap in the face to remind him what it felt like to live. Like it always did.

What if Jisung's feelings for Minho were nothing more but a psychopathological side-effect of his abandonment issues? Looking back at how his previous relationships used to be, how they ended, there was a certain pattern; chasing every high, ignoring his own needs but feverishly meeting those of the other's just so he could have a sense of belonging.

But in the end... Good things didn't last long enough. They never did.

He wasn't lying when he told Minho how he felt. Happy. He meant it, deep down Jisung knew he said it with sincerity. Was it purely physical? Jisung was physically attracted to Minho, there's no use denying that.

Strong hands that grabbed him by the waist, gentle fingers caressing and gliding over skin. Soft moans. Desperate and needy. Deep kisses. Half lidded eyes. Hushed moans. Passionate and hot and electrifying. Recalling all those lustful moments had Jisung feeling dizzy.

He looked down on himself, lifting the blanket to reveal a growing erection. He sighed and rolled to the side, having now perfect view on Minho's shirtless back. A smile tugged on his lips.

Then there were those moments when Jisung's brain came to a screeching halt. A look into Minho's eyes and he was gone. A tickling sensation in his belly, increasing heartbeat, trembling hands, dry mouth. Suddenly at a loss for words every time Minho's attention was undoubtedly and solely on Jisung. Minho spoke softly, as if Jisung was the most delicate flower to ever exist.

Minho was there when Jisung suffered through a migraine attack, barely getting any sleep himself. He cooked for me. Who does that?

Amidst all the soft, sweet affection, there was Minho's relentless teasing; randomly poking Jisung's side, grabbing his butt and slapping it, sarcastic remarks, calling him 'hamster cheeks'. Jisung loved Minho's teasing but he would never admit it. Nope. Never. That was totally out of the question.

All this – was it actually real? Did Jisung really exist at the same time as Minho? Did they really meet? There must be a catch! Jisung pinched the skin on his upper arm. A curse word almost made its way out of his throat. Rubbing the now reddened spot, Jisung skidded closer to Minho's back, the warmth radiating from him was enough for Jisung to wrap an arm around his middle. He could fall asleep like that, there was only one problem: Jisung was horny.

Jisung's lips found Minho's shoulder, pressing a wet kiss on soft skin. His first desire was to spread red excited kisses all over the other's back, waking him up in the process, only to get his sexual needs satisfied. However, after the second kiss, Jisung halted, his eyebrows creasing in confusion.

This was not a dream. This was reality, and Jisung had the freedom of choice. Now he could either choose to continue his usual spiel of lust and self-abandonment; or he could turn the other way and tread on a path less traveled by, which would ultimately lead him to something new.

Uncharted land. New and scary.

Fantasies of him and Minho together. Jisung would show him his room, letting him look through all the magazines of his favorite K-Pop-Group, if he was into it. If not, it'd be alright, they'd find something to enjoy together. Like playing games on the console.

What music does Minho like? What's his favorite color? Does he have an opinion to pineapple on pizza?

They have seen each other naked, Jisung could point out every mole on Minho's georgeous body, but if put in the situation, Jisung wouldn't be able to answer any of those basic questions.

More such questions flooded Jisung's mind, washing over him like a Tsunami, and leaving him a bit dizzy as he continued to gently peck Minho's back – and the back only. But this time, after every kiss he left on the skin, he made a promise. A promise to himself, to the world, to Minho.

Can we please keep seeing each other? I promise to be less of a nuisance to you. If you want to talk for two hours about your cats, I'll sit and listen and not get bored. You're the best thing in my life. I feel less lonely when I'm with you. You make me so happy. Minho. Lee Minho. I think I'm in love with you, love with you~

As the smooches traveled southward, Minho's eyes fluttered open. He was a bit confused because he couldn't comprehend why his back felt so funny, before he finally realized that it was Jisung. He heard the smacking of wet lips on his skin, leaving a tingling sensation. Minho smiled, enjoying the affection very much. When Jisung's hand traveled to the front and gently squeezed Minho's chest, he gasped in surprise. Minho took Jisung's hand and turned around. When he caught Jisung's shocked expression, he smirked. Why are you so cute, Sungie~

Minho cupped Jisung's round face and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. Feeling the boy shiver and softly sigh under his touch sent Minho's heart rate into the three-digits. Gently, he pulled him closer to his bare chest, wrapping his arms around Jisung and holding onto him as if his life depended on it.

It was still early in the morning, the sun had not yet risen, occasionally birds were warming up their melodic voices. Jisung and Minho stayed like that for a while; cuddling, entangled in each other's arms, enjoying the warmth and safety of one another.

Jisung had drifted off into a superficial slumber, strange colors and objects were mixing together as the dream went on, but immediately dissolved when his eyes shot open. Did he hear something? Why was his heart beating so fast? His hand stretched out, only to find the space beside him empty and cold. With a frown on his face and ignoring the light headache, he sat up and looked around. Relief washed over him when he found Minho sitting by the desk, scribbling away in his notebook. Minho looked highly focused; even from the side, the scowl on his face warned Jisung not to disturb him.

With a sigh, Minho leaned back in his chair, scratching his head with the tip of his pen. He quietly closed his notebook and, still scowling, he met Jisung's gaze. The thing is, once Minho locked eyes with Jisung, all tension fell from his face, softening his features, and a happy smile pulled his perfect lips upwards.

Jisung's heart skipped a beat.

So did Minho's when the smile was returned equally.

"What were you writing?" Jisung blurted out without thinking, voice croaky and a semitone lower.

Minho raised an eyebrow. "Really? What happened to good morning, how did you sleep?" Minho shook his head, got up from the chair and stuffed the notebook in his backpack. Then he stood to look down on Jisung with a playful smirk. "No manners." Before Jisung knew what was happening to him, Minho had him tackled, sending them both onto the bed.

"Dude, get off of me," Jisung demanded.

"Nope."

"Please?"

Minho chuckled. It was a kind of chuckle that made Jisung gulp, a kind of chuckle that Jisung better not ignored. Something was about to come – a punishment.

And in this case, the punishment came in the form of relentless tickling. Minho flipped Jisung around like a pancake, locking him into place in no time. Minho had the time of his life, laughing over Jisung's pleas for mercy as he poked his fingers into Jisung's sides.

Minho stopped when Jisung gasped for breath. "Are you alright down there?"

Heavy breathing and a nod. "Yeah, but- but you better make up for that." Jisung wiped some strands of hair out of his heated face. "Or else."

Minho chuckled. "What do you want me to do?"

Jisung mumbled something but Minho didn't hear him well, so he leaned forward, now basically lying flat on Jisung's back. "I didn't catch that, love, could you please repeat that?"

Love, he sounds so old when he says that, but goddamn I like it.

Jisung felt Minho's hot breath tickling his ear, a shiver rippled down his back. When Minho shifted a bit to lean on his forearms, Jisung's eyes widened in shock when he felt something poke his butt. Was Minho aware of the pressure he put on his cabinmate beneath him?

Jisung's head started spinning yet again. There was an absolutely gorgeous man above him, who seemed to be just as crazy as Jisung.

"Hm? Nothing?"

When Minho spoke, his voice vibrated through Jisung's body, and because of that, he was snapped back into the moment and aware that he still owed Minho an answer. "Well, I like food."

"I can buy you dinner, or your favorite bubble tea."

"That sounds nice," Jisung's voice came bit strained.

"Thursday we can go out. Last time I've seen a small store, they sell ramen and bubble tea," Minho whispered, lips hovering over Jisung's neck, "we should go there, what do you say?"

Jisung's eyes fluttered, somehow loving the physical restraint Minho put on him, and the slow, torturous grind of his hips. "I'd love that..."

"You'd love that?"

"Yes..."

Jisung's shirt lifted and cool fingers trailed over warm skin, giving his waist a squeeze, and Minho's lips latched onto Jisung's neck, sucking and gently biting the skin. Jisung buried his face in his pillow, otherwise a weird noise would have escaped his throat, and he didn't want to deal with that right now.

He just woke up, merely minutes ago there was not a single worry or thought in his head, neither was the idea of being pushed into the mattress with Minho on top- but who was he to complain? This stranger-turned-lover had Jisung utterly wrapped around his finger.

Gleaming spots were dancing along the edges, breathing became uneven, condensing on the window, and racing hearts syncing in with one aother.

A sudden shrill sound shattered their heated bubble, Minho jumped a mile away from Jisung. Confused and his brain a mush, Jisung turned over on his back. Minho was leaning on the desk with one hand, panting because he was out of breath, his hair was a mess, and by the look on his flushed face, Jisung could tell his cabinmate was just as ruined as he himself.

Jisung reached for his phone on the bedside table and turned it off. Stupid alarm.

"Fuck," Jisung mumbled under his breath.

"That was your alarm clock?" Minho questioned, disappointed.

Jisung groaned and started pacing the room. He needed to cool down because he kept glancing towards Minho and he couldn't trust himself not to pounce him.

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

The morning air was crisp because it had rained overnight. Jisung shivered, Minho noticed and wrapped an arm around him, Jisung smiled and leaned into the warm touch. On the way to the main building, they ran into Changbin and Hyunjin; the latter leading the way while the former held onto Hyunjin's hand. Their smiling faces dropped once they spotted Jisung and Minho, immediately jumping apart and letting go of each other's hand. While Jisung didn't notice shit, he was too engrossed in feeling safe and warm, Minho did notice but chose to not give it much thought.

Before they entered the main building, Minho pulled Jisung closer one last time and rubbed his arms to warm him up. The canteen was the usual sensory hell, loud and smelly. It all was bearable once Jisung took the first bite of his Gyeran Bap; cooked rice, fried eggs, topped with spring onion, soy sauce, and sesame oil. Heaven.

Minho skipped the sesame oil and replaced it with hot sauce, which earned him Jisung's classic side eye. Between bites they tried to have a light conversation, which turned out to be quite difficult as the noise level seemed to increase by the minute. Minho had to repeat his words several times.

"I'm sorry, Minho, when there are too many sources of noise, I'm having a really hard time focusing," Jisung apologized, hiding his face behind a hand but looked up when he felt a soft touch.

"It's okay, love, let's eat up, then we'll leave."

Jisung melted at Minho's reassuring smile.

The promise of a nice day disappeared when the camp's gates rolled open and two police cars stopped in the middle of the courtyard. Four police officers, two from each car, got out. They exchanged a few words, then two of them went straight towards Jisung and Minho watching from the entrance, where Minho stood frozen in fear.

Jisung stepped aside so the police officers could enter the main building, his eyes were fixed on their backs as they headed towards the reception, then stopped to talk with the person behind it. Jisung felt his heart pounding in his throat, mouth dry, thoughts racing; despite knowing he did nothing wrong, a certain part of him felt like he'd been caught smoking pot. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed people gathering by the entrance. Hushed whispers, both curious and anxious.

"What happened? Why's the police here?"

"Who snitched on us?"

"I told you not to bring alcohol."

"Did someone die?"

Jisung rolled his eyes. A tap on his shoulder caused him to flinch and turn around, it was Changbin.

"Pretty sure they found out about your little affair," the buff guy mumbled, letting a heavy arm drop on Jisung's shoulder.

"Being gay is not a crime," Jisung hissed back, shrugging off the arm.

Changbin seemed to be caught off guard, he laughed nervously, and cleared his throat. "Well, we're in South Korea, you still gotta be careful."

Jisung narrowed his eyes at him. "The fuck's your problem, dude?" Only now did Jisung notice that he was alone. "Where's Minho?"

Changbin merely shrugged. Jisung craned his neck, looking over the crowd in search for a tuft of soft black hair. Any other time, Jisung would have waited until he knew what was going on here. There was a certain aspect of him that relished when shit went down, but only as long as he was neither the cause nor center of attention.

Minho had simply disappeared, left without a word, and Jisung didn't think twice when he hurried back to their cabin. He found Minho kneeling on the floor next to their bed. Why's he packing?

"Minho, what are you doing?"

Startled, Minho flinched. "Nothing," he said quickly, too quickly. His hands were trembling as he rolled up the cables for the console.

"Doesn't look like nothing to me," Jisung sat down next to Minho, "but rather you're panicking." Gently, he placed a hand on Minho's lower back. "What's wrong?"

Minho took a breath or two. He took the console and held it in front of him. "This- I didn't purchase it," he pointed to the game cases, scattered on the floor, "none of it. Now they're coming for me!"

Jisung bit his tongue, trying hard to suppress a laugh. In the past, his usual self absolutely would have burst out laughing; mocking, pointing his finger. But Jisung was adamant in making it a point to keep his promise, besides, seeing the panicked look on Minho's face triggered the strong need to work things through with him.

Jisung smiled warmly. "Yeah, I figured."

"You- what?"

"Don't look at me like that," he chuckled, "at the campfire, remember? We were drinking, sharing stories, and I clearly remember when you said that you were caught stealing electronics from some fancy store."

Minho blinked, connecting the pieces in his mind. "I... I don't steal. I'm investigating people's property," he murmured, glancing away.

Jisung drew small circles on Minho's back, slowly closing the distance between them. "I don't mind that you're a thief, because you already stole my heart and I'm totally fine with that."

While Jisung had a broad grin plastered on his face, Minho's body tensed. Not in an anxious, panic-ridden way, but rather he couldn't process Jisung's words properly. From his perspective, they came out of nowhere, hitting him head-on. He was expecting a stern lecture, or typical phrases that people used when they didn't know what else to say. Like, 'that's what you get for breaking the law'. So, his brain was ready to receive criticism, and when those didn't come, a wire short-circuited in his brain.

I don't mind that you're a thief because you already stole my heart and I'm totally fine with that.

Simple words, though a bit cheesy, but in Minho's mind they would play on loop for the rest of his life.

Once he was able to regain some self-control, he cupped Jisung's face; thumbs softly rubbing over his cute cheeks, looking into his round eyes, hands traveling over the boy's shoulders and down his arms. Minho's heart raced, his mouth was dry.

"Jisung, I lo-"

Jisung caressed Minho's cheek, just like he did when they had shared their first kiss a week ago. Minho's eyes sparkled, a sight to continue getting lost in. Their lips touched and started moving into a slow and sweet kiss. Whatever Minho wanted to say, it could wait. Right now, words were neither needed nor able to describe what both of them felt.

BANG BANG BANG

Jisung and Minho jumped apart. Frozen in shock, they stared at the door.

BANG BANG BANG

"Police, open the door!"

Minho began hyperventilating once more, wheezing, his chest heaved up and down. He wanted to shove the console and the game cases into his backpack, jump out the window and run away, or at least lock himself in the bathroom. He wanted to do all that, and yet he sat there on the carpeted floor, unable to move. Jisung's voice seemed to come from far away.

"Minho!"

A hand on his chin forced Minho to look at Jisung. "Baby, I'm right here. Nothing's going to happen. Whatever they want, I'm sure it has nothing to do with you. Take a deep breath, yeah? Breathe for me."

And breathe he did. With Jisung's help, he was able to calm down far enough so he could get up and sit on the bed. As Jisung approached the door, he, too, took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what might happen. He had seen enough crime and action movies to know that he could get jumped by the police once the door cracked open.

Bracing himself for the impact, Jisung pushed down the handle. The door swung open with a creak. Jisung gulped at the sight of a tall and insanely ripped police man; the hem of his sleeves clung tightly over his upper arms, cutting into the skin. He looked like Rambo, minus that murderous gaze. One wrong movement, one inhale too deep, and the buttons that held his shirt in place, would explode – and definitely hit Jisung in the eye.

"Han Jisung?" the man in the tight uniform inquired.

Jisung nodded weakly.

"We would like to ask you some questions, is that okay for you?"

"I didn't do anything!" Jisung blurted out, totally missing what was said to him.

Well done, idiot. Now you seem even more suspicious. Way to go!

The police officer gave him a sympathetic smile, even took a step back when he noticed Jisung's trembling figure.

"You're not in trouble, I can promise that. We only have a few questions, that's all. Alright?"

He walked across the small porch and down the stairs, where he stopped and obviously waited for Jisung to follow him. Jisung gulped, his mouth was awfully dry, and pulled the cabin door shut. On wobbly knees he joined the police officer down at the stairs, fingers tightly clasping the wooden handrail.

The second police officer, way shorter than the other, he almost disappeared behind his colleague, fished out a pen and a little notepad, ready to write down everything that Jisung was about to say.

"Do you know Choi Yu-Seung?" the Rambo imitation of a police officer asked.

"Uh, she- she's my social worker."

"When was the last time you've seen her?"

Unconsciously, Jisung started biting his fingernail. Most of his recent memories were pretty steamy, unraveling them from others cost him a lot of brainpower. "Last week, I think... We had an appointment, but she never showed up, uh, I last saw her the previous day."

"Do you remember which day that was?"

It took everything in him not to burst into tears. His tough attitude could only get him so far. Was this how true criminals felt? How falsely accused victims felt? Or maybe it was simply the effect the police had on people.

Focus, Jisung! Think! What happened? The whole office reeked of smoke. Before that? I was angry because their credit system is hella fucked up!

"Thursday," Jisung stated confidently. He was absolutely sure that he had a conversation with Choi Yu-Seung on a Thursday, because he remembered being confused about the short vacation happening on a Thursday, in the middle of the week.

Jisung, listen, what happened before that? The fuck you mean?

The police man with the little notepad interrupted Jisung's inner monologue with a cough; crunchy and mucous, like that of a smoker since he was thirteen years old. "You sure it was Thursday?" he sneered, pointing loosely towards Jisung's neck, "Looks like you were quite... busy."

Rambo-cop turned around sharply. Jisung's hands flew up and covered his hickey-stained neck; the lip-shaped marks were yellow around the edges and still a bit red in the center, but only visible if you really looked for it. Tears of suppressed anger and shame pricked in the corners of his eyes.

"Can I leave?" Jisung gritted out, scowling at the two cops.

"Yes, of course, thank you for your time."

Jisung immediately turned around and went back inside his cabin. He slammed the door shut with extra petulant force.

#minsung #minsung fic #minsung fanfiction #han #han jisung #lee minho #lee know #skz #stray kids

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feriluce · 1 month ago

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⟪What's Left Of You⟫ Chapter 10-The Happy Moments | Minsung

Chilly gusts of wind tugged on his bare arms. Gravel crunched beneath his shoes as Minho hurried along the path. The gate separating the cabins from the main area fell into the lock with a metallic clang. An early morning silence hang over the area, two blackbirds were gathering near the cars, picking the ground, cawing and flapping their wings when Minho rushed past.

The sliding door of the main building opened automatically. At this time Minho was he only one at the reception desk. He approached with a smile, which the receptionist returned once she looked up.

"Good morning," Minho greeted quietly, coming to a stop at the front desk, "I hope I didn't come at an inconvenient time."

"Not at all, is there something you need?"

Minho shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Now that he really was about to execute his plan, he felt a bit nervous. "In the red folder it says that today, Monday, is our day off. We can use the camp's premises at our own discretion." He paused to take a breath. Every time he was overly nervous, his words gained speed and he would forget to breathe. He always disliked this about himself. "I was hoping that I could use the kitchen, please."

The receptionist leaned forward, eyeing Minho over the rim of her glasses. "What do you need the kitchen for?"

"Uh, you see," at first, he was thinking about telling some white lie, like he simply missed cooking like he did back home- because no one needed to know that he cared about Jisung. But since this simply wasn't part of his personality, he told the truth, "yesterday my cabinmate suffered a migraine attack, he had a rough night and I..." Minho trailed off, too aware of his beating heart.

"You want to cheer him up," the receptionist concluded. "Your roommate is Han Jisung, right? Poor guy, way too young for having-," she coughed awkwardly, "I'll let the kitchen staff know about your plan, one moment please." The phone call was short, she relayed everything Minho had said to the person on the other end of the line. It sounded like there were no objections. "Well, they want to talk to you in person, so you better hurry and meet the chef."

"Really? That's great, thank you so much. Uh, were do I go?"

"Go outside and around the building, you'll meet him there."

Minho voiced his gratitude once more, bowed, and hopped outside. He couldn't believe how easy that was. In the back of the building, he spotted a middle-aged man in white workwear. He was leaning against a metal door, leisurely smoking a cigarette.

"Good morning," Minho greeted happily, "are you the chef?"

"I am. Let me finish my cigarette."

"Of course."

Minho stood a bit to the side, excitedly rocking on his shoe soles. When the chef was done smoking, he gestured for Minho to follow him inside. They went down a metal staircase, one level underground. A hallway led them to a garage-type door which rolled up after the chef punched a big green buzzer. It rattled open and revealed a vast industrial kitchen. Everything, except for the tiled walls, was chrome. Steam clouds billowed out of giant pots and evaporated at the ceiling. Sharp sizzling of food being sauteed. Orders were yelled over the heads of dozens of people. It was so loud and smelly. The chef took a pump of disinfectant, Minho doing the same.

"What d'you wanna cook?" the chef asked loudly over the noise.

"I was thinking of Haejangguk and Mandu."

Haejangguk is a type of soup that is eaten to cure a hangover.

Mandu are stuffed dumplings.

The chef looked at Minho with a surprised look on his face. "Haejangguk?"

Defensively, Minho raised his hands. "We didn't drink anything, I'm just trying to cheer up my cabinmate. That's all, I swear."

The chef burst out laughing, slapping his knee. "Ah, you young people!"

Wiping his eyes, although there were no tears, he led Minho to an empty area with a stove top. Stacked cutting boards, knives stuck on a metal strip attached to the wall. After the stove followed a spacious working space, and a sink. It all looked as if it had never been used before. Super clean. The chef also showed him where to find all the ingredients, most were in cold storage.

"When d'you wanna start?"

"Now, please."

"The place is all yours, knock yourself out." Chuckling and with a shook of his head, the chef left.

Before Minho started, he shot Jisung a text that he was busy but would be back soon, so please don't leave the cabin. Taking an apron from the hook, he quickly gathered all the needed ingredients. He knew every step of the recipes by heart. Making fresh Mandu from scratch was something he only did for special people.

And to Minho, Jisung has become very special.

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Minho has outdone himself. He easily made enough soup and dumplings for five people. Strong bone broth, originally deep yellow in color, changed into an orange-brown once the soybean paste came into the mix. Cabbage, radish, spring onions, soybean sprouts- thinly sliced to make eating easier, than having to deal with huge chunks. The dumplings were stuffed with minced meat and assorted vegetables. They were perfect. Minho didn't need to worry about the taste regarding spices and herbs, of course he left out the hot ones. Jisung is such a wimp, he thought amused.

He packed everything in containers, sealing them tightly shut. Being the kind and good person he was, he cleaned his space to an immaculate degree. He bowed goodbye to the kitchen staff and left the building, feeling relieved he no longer had to endure their intrusive questions.

As he hurried back to his cabin, he took out his phone and stopped. No new message. Frowning, he opened the chat. It seemed that Jisung had read his text but didn't bother answering. Minho sighed. Why did this bother him so much?

The cabin door creaked open. Shoes landed carelessly on the rack. First thing Minho noticed was the light scent of soap that hung in humid air. The bathroom door was ajar and dark inside but had been used the time Minho was gone. When he looked to his bed, a smile tugged on the corner of his lips. Jisung had fallen asleep with his phone in hand, the other hand was squished between the pillow and his cheek. Quietly, Minho placed the homemade (campmade?) dishes on the desk and sat down next to the sleeping boy.

A careful finger pushed the hair from Jisung's face. The touch caused him to stir, the phone slipped from his hand and threatened to hit the floor – but Minho's reflexes were catlike, he caught the phone midair and gently placed it on the bedside table.

There was something about Jisung that made Minho feel soft inside. The same way when he's playing with his cats and laughing at their hilarious theatrics. But maybe this was something deeper than that.

Minho lay next to Jisung. His first instinct was to kiss him awake, but then he had a better idea. He started poking his cheek, first gently then more assertively. Poking the cheek turned to pulling on the eye lids, turned to flicking the ear.

Jisung's face scrunched up in displeasure, cracking an eye open. When he realized the face in front of him, he opened both eyes but still looked rather confused.

Minho smiled. "Good morning."

Jisung stretched like cats do and subsequently pulled Minho into a bone crushing embrace. Minho loved it. Every time Jisung touched him – be it unconsciously, affectionately, or seductively – it sent electric shivers through his body. The first time it happened was when Jisung wiped away the yellow paint from his face, or at least that was when he consciously noticed it. Maybe Minho was more touch-starved than he thought.

"Where were you?" Jisung mumbled into the other's neck.

"Did you miss me?"

"Yeah…"

Minho couldn't stop smiling as Jisung buried his face deeper. Pulling him closer, he planted a little kiss on his head. His hair was still a bit damp from the shower, it smelled good. He didn't want to let go. He didn't want to ever let Jisung go.

"I was preparing something, a surprise, if you will."

Jisung looked up. "What surprise?"

"Get up and see for yourself."

Jisung started whining and wiggling, but Minho wouldn't have it. He effortlessly hoisted the little hamsterboy up and dragged him over to the chair, sitting him down. It might have happened a bit too fast for Jisung's sleepy brain.

"I hope you're hungry." Minho placed a bowl, a spoon, and chopsticks in front of Jisung, opening the containers filled to the brim with Haejangguk and Mandu. Fragrant steam escaped in a puff of air.

"Whoa, that smells delicious. Where'd you get that?"

"I cooked it myself."

When Jisung looked at Minho with big round eyes, he suddenly felt a bit shy.

"You made that? Here?"

"Yeah?"

Jisung looked so perplexed, it was hilarious. "That's why you smell like kitchen."

Minho pulled up his shirt and sniffed. Indeed, the unmistakable stench of kitchen. "Please start eating, I need a shower."

"I'll wait for you!"

Jisung's eyes sparkled. Minho got soft and smiled, taking Jisung's cheek into his hand. "It's okay, love, enjoy it while it's hot."

When Jisung leaned into Minho touch, he wanted to kiss him so bad. The tingling in his belly almost made him lose his mind.

Jisung had waited. He sat through the loud and angry rumbling of his stomach. For a second his mind lost focus from the mouth-watering aroma of perfectly balanced ingredients when Minho exited the bathroom butt naked. He looked away but then the tantalizing urge to dig right into the food returned with a vengeance. For that, Minho called him an idiot.

With full, happy bellies, they were resting on Minho's bed. In fact, at one point during the night they had pushed both their beds together. It was the only logical thing to do, after all they really enjoyed each other's company. The leftovers were safely stored in the containers, it was still a lot though.

Lying here side by side, not talking, but holding each other's hand, it was so nice. Minho rolled his head to side and looked Jisung. His side profile was fascinating. The small bump on his nose, and in combination with round cheeks, it gave him a unique look. Jisung was pretty, beautiful in his own way.

Jisung seemed to have sensed Minho's staring, he turned to his side and smiled while playing with Minho's hair. Soft touches. Carefully twirling strands of black hair between fingers. Minho was absolutely mesmerized.

"Minho."

"Huh, what?"

Jisung chuckled. "I was asking if you wanna go for a walk."

"Yeah, sure, we can go if you want."

It was already past midday. The sky was overcast with heavy, gray clouds, hiding the sun, temperatures dropping quite low. Sporadically some participants left their cabins for a quick smoke, but then quickly returned back inside. Stopping by the fenced gate, Jisung turned to look at Minho, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"I wanna show you something."

Taking Minho by the hand, he led him to his hiding spot that he had discovered a couple days ago. The piles of wood were still there, the shrubs and bushes seemed to have grown thicker. Jisung crouched down and shoved some branches to the side, just so the two of them would have enough space without getting hurt. Carefully, he helped Minho sit down next to him. They skidded around for a bit until they were comfortable.

Minho leaned back on his hands, looking up and around. "Pretty nice spot you got there, how did you find it?"

Jisung shrugged. "Pure coincidence."

"Ah."

Jisung sat too far away for Minho's liking. He grabbed and positioned Jisung in a way so that one leg was over Minho's lap, and the other behind his back. Jisung visibly blushed at being manhandled.

"You sitting comfy?" Minho asked and Jisung nodded.

In a matter of seconds, their lips found each other. Minho held Jisung by the waist, while Jisung's hands found support on Minho's shoulders. Timid pecks soon turned into slightly more needy French kisses. Minho loved it, oh how he loved it when their tongues brushed against each other, when Jisung sucked on it, chasing vibrating waves down his spine. Jisung was greedy. Minho liked that. Whatever Jisung gave him, he took it all with both hands.

They both sighed and smiled into the kisses. No lie, Minho was turned on. He squeezed Jisung's waist, which caused him to squeak a little. Minho chuckled as he laid a hand on Jisung's neck and pulled him deeper into the kiss.

Even though they were both burning up with desire, they didn't feel the need to act on it. The making out was just too good, feeling and savoring each other so intimately, so tenderly.

When the kisses turned from passionate to languid and eventually stopped, Minho opened his eyes when he felt a warm touch on his cheek. Jisung was looking at him with a flushed face, sparkling eyes, and a blissful smile he had never seen before. Then Jisung said something unexpected, but with that he put exactly into words what Minho was feeling.

"I'm happy when I'm with you."

#minsung #minsung fic #minsung fanfiction #han #han jisung #lee know #lee minho #skz #stray kids

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feriluce · 1 month ago

Text

⟪What's Left Of You⟫ Chapter 9-The Hike | Minsung

*smut.

The colors were no longer bright and glaring, but soft and comforting. Muted. The early morning breeze carried freshness. Birds were chirping cheerfully. Everything felt easier. Everything felt lighter. Better. Like that one glass of cold water at 3am. Like waking up before the alarm. Like stretching one's limbs and making them crack just right. Breathing has never come more natural.

The sun was just below the horizon, at the crack of dawn, about to rise and bid a new day welcome.

Thick stone walls, artistically enhanced with graffiti, surrounding a small wooden bench that was facing the open side of the waiting hut. The first rays of sunlight stretched over the sky like floodlights announcing the new day. A spectacle of orange, yellow, and pale blue. Jisung would have loved that view, but he had his eyes closed because he was resting his head on Minho's shoulder. He had quite the night; after switching between playing games on the console and making out with Minho that turned into something more physical, Jisung was exhausted. Poor boy barely had any strength left. Not that he had a lot in the first place.

Minho on the other hand was able to deal with the tiredness much better, always has. In his mind, he could still feel Jisung's wet kisses traveling down his chest. He suppressed a shiver. When the sun rays pierced through pink clouds, and the light hit Jisung's sleeping face just right, Minho took out his phone and quickly snapped a picture. So damn cute, I can't.

The speakers on the platform came alive with a crack. A distorted voice announced the arrival of a train.

"About damn time!" Changbin growled and walked out of the waiting hut.

Hyunjin remained seated. He gave Minho a tired look. "How can someone be so loud at five in the morning?"

"I should consider myself lucky with this one," he nodded down towards Jisung on his shoulder, "he's hotheaded, but surprisingly pleasant." He chuckled to himself, knowing very well what they did last night.

"Lucky you, mine's a pest."

When the acoustic train signal resounded, Minho gently shook Jisung awake. Jisung rubbed his tired eyes, allowing Minho to link arms with him as they walked out on the platform, waiting for the train to open its doors. If Minho hadn't looked into the red folder, they absolutely would have forgotten about the weekend's activity: Hiking. Staying overnight at an inn. More hiking. For credits. For freedom.

Everyone found a seat in the compartment. Luckily, Changbin got on first and secured a four-seater for himself, Hyunjin, Minho, and Jisung. The supervisor (Pyong Su-something) yelled over them to get a seat and behave properly, which was totally unnecessary, they were all tired as fuck, no one even said peep. But Jisung flinched at the noise, and Minho noticed, and shot the woman an angry glare.

After the supervisor called roll, a pleasant silence filled the compartment. Jisung fell back asleep on Minho's shoulder. Minho found Jisung's hand, leaned into his side, and closed his eyes.

Hyunjin noticed their affectionate closeness. Something he took note of since the campfire. The way they were staring at each other was quite obvious. Now Hyunjin knew. He glanced at Changbin sitting beside him; his arms were crossed over his broad chest, ear buds in, eyes closed. Sighing, Hyunjin fished out his phone and played a game the whole ride, trying to distract himself from thoughts that would only make him sad.

After an endless half an hour they arrived at their stop. It looked like an industrial district; high chimneys puffed out billowing clouds of smoke, truck after truck roared down the busy street, a smell of burnt grease hung in the air. The supervisor walked ahead of the group of ten young people, she seemed to be in a hurry.

It took them another ten minutes walking along a narrow sidewalk. The sidewalk turned steep, high trees on either side. Jisung started wheezing, Minho hooked himself under his arms, and dragged him along so they didn't fall back.

"Can't you just carry me?" Jisung whined.

"Sure."

Without hesitation, Minho got on one knee in front of Jisung, offering him a piggyback ride.

"Are you serious?"

"Yep, now hop on."

Jisung took a step forward but the moment his hands came in contact with Minho's rain jacket, Minho got to his feet, turned around and lightly shoved Jisung. "Did you really think I'd let you do that?" Minho burst out laughing, the look on Jisung's face was just too funny- a mix of hurt and surprise.

"You're mean," Jisung pouted, shoulder-bumping Minho a bit rougher than intended.

"Gah, c’mere you cute little hamsterboy."

Minho pulled Jisung into a side hug and ruffled his hair. Unnoticed by anyone else, he quickly pecked Jisung's cheek. If someone had told him a month ago that he would become shy by something as little as a peck, Jisung would have flipped them off. But look at him, blushing red like an overripe tomato.

The group arrived at a parking lot. There were a few buildings; a 24/7 grocery store, a DIY store, and something that looked like a shed. The door of a pick-up truck opened, and a man jumped out, approaching the group. Jisung recognized him, it was that dude who left his social worker's office.

"Everyone, listen up!" the supervisor shouted. "We'll start our tour in ten minutes. You may buy some supplies, but do not run away."

Jisung won't be told twice. He turned on his heels and headed straight to the store's beverage aisle. He grabbed a big bottle of still mineral water, and a small bottle, just in case he had to take a pill dealing with his clusterfuck migraine. Better safe than sorry.

Two aisles up, Minho seriously considered buying flavored lube. There was a very small shelf with adult toys, contraceptives, and... other stuff. Last night they had engaged in a mutual hand job. It was nice, hearing Jisung moan and whimper did a lot with Minho. He wanted to do it again.

Jisung and Minho were the first ones to arrive back at the parking lot. There was some commotion, a dog was barking and growling at the truck. The owner visibly struggled pulling on the leash.

"Get that fucking beast away!" the supervisor screeched at the dog's owner, a frail looking girl.

"I'm trying, okay?! Namu, come on, let's go!" Her voice quivered, tiny hands tugging on the leash to no avail.

The woman tried to take a swing, ready to slap the girl, but her colleague held her by the wrist, pulling her away.

"The hell is wrong with you?" he shouted angrily. "You can't just slap someone, never mind a kid! Do you wanna risk your job? My job? Huh?! I'm going to move the car, and you better pull yourself together. Godfuckingdamn."

Minho and Jisung shared a confused look, watching from a safe distance. Gosh, what's gotten up her ass? Those were Jisung's thoughts, mind you. If he was alone he definitely would have verbalized those thoughts, maybe even caused a scene because, you know, this was Han Jisung – the eternal menace. But with Minho by his side, restraining himself somehow came easier.

They were standing there, watching, munching on some chips. Sour cream and onion. Jisung wanted plain salt, Minho wanted spicy chili. They bickered for a while, and ultimately decided for sour cream and onion.

Jisung shoved a handful of chips into his mouth and handed the bag to Minho, as they were walking past the girl with the barking dog. The rustling of the bag seemed to distract the dog and it immediately ceased freaking out. Its expression softened when it noticed Jisung. With a wagging tail and tongue out, the dog waltzed over.

"Well, hello there, who are you?" Jisung cooed in a baby voice, Minho was shocked.

"His name is Namu."

"Namu? Ohmygodthisissuchacutename. Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy? Yes, you are the bestest boy."

Jisung petted the dog's head, rubbed his big floppy ears, and let his face get licked. Minho cringed internally. He wasn't any different with his own cats, though.

Minho guessed the girl to be around his age, but from her visual appearance alone she could also be way younger. She had bleach blonde hair and a red streak to the side.

"I'm so sorry, usually he's very easy-going and soft. He only reacts like that when my dad's gutting the deer he hunted. Poor Namu can't stand blood."

"That was quite the reaction," Minho said, "I was a bit worried he would break loose. Do you know why he got so worked up?"

The girl shrugged. "I got him last year as a rescue. Who knows what he's been through."

Jisung got up from the ground. He had a look of utter bliss on his saliva-glistening face. The girl said goodbye and hurriedly walked away with a now obedient dog in tow.

Now that the group was complete, they started hiking up north. supervisor at the front, truck-man at the back. If Jisung had it his way, he rather would have stayed back at the camp. He'd even prefer the art instructor's endless rambling about prehistoric cave painting. Or taking out every trash bin. Anything was better than trudging through the woods, with the sun burning down on his scalp and nowhere to sit down.

The mental images of last night still popped up. Massaging Minho's back, decorating him with kisses everywhere. His skin was so soft. The memory of Minho's firm grip on his dick sent shivers down his spine. He exhaled and tried to keep his cool, getting a boner in public would be unwise.

The way their hands found each other, as if this was their only purpose: Holding each other. They fell a bit behind, letting Hyunjin and Changbin walk in front of them. Minho's thumb drew circles on Jisung's hand. Jisung slightly squeezed his hand in return.

"Hey, hey, you two! No hand holding. Where the hell do you think you are?"

Minho and Jisung turned around. The truck-man was right behind, disapproval evident on his face, that scowl even made him look 10 years older. Reluctantly, they let go of each other.

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The scenery never changed. Trees, rocks, sometimes flowers. It was always the same and they were already walking for two hours. Jisung was bored out of his mind, and his feet hurt. Every time he tried to lift the mood, that truck-man reprimanded him.

What a loser.

No one was allowed to talk freely. Like they were on a death march. Because once anyone even so much as laughed a bit louder, they got yelled at. Whatever the staff's deal was, Jisung – and by extension, the whole group – hated being here.

The supervisor stopped and turned around. "Twenty minutes break, rest and eat some. Stay close or you'll get in trouble."

A groan went through the group, some walked a bit farther off while most dropped down on the ground where they were standing.

"She says that every time, like we're fucking kids," Hyunjin mumbled as he walked past Jisung and Minho. Changbin followed him.

Minho sat down on the big root of a tree, protruding out of the ground like a loop. From his backpack he unwrapped a sandwich and started eating. Jisung sat down on the lower part where could easily lean against the tree trunk. He took a sip of water, then nibbled on his yogurt-glazed rice waffles. Jisung's eating habits were a bit odd. Most people would not start with something sweet.

Most times when people ate, they looked funny, at best- ugly, at worst. Minho was neither. He looked majestic. He opened his mouth wide enough to fit half of his sandwich inside. There must be something wrong with Jisung; simping over someone eating.

"What are you looking at?" Minho was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

Oopsie.

"Just wanted to offer you some Gimbap." Jisung held out a piece; it was stuffed with rice, cheese, crab meat, and sesame seeds.

"You bought that at the store?"

"Yeah."

Minho grimaced.

"It tastes good. Come on, it's with crab meat."

"I like crab meat." Reluctantly, Minho accepted Jisung's generous offer. He looked at it so doubtfully, gave it a sniff, then sighed. "If I die, don't attend my funeral."

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Minho peeled an orange and shared it with Jisung, who grimaced at the slight acidity. Minho cackled, he himself seemed to be immune to this. First spice and now sour? What was this man?

When it was time to return to their group, they made sure to leave no mess in the forest.

"You got a little..." Minho pointed to Jisung's cheek.

Jisung wiped it off. "Better?"

"Still there."

Jisung pressed his fingers in his cheek and rubbed a bit harder. "Now?"

Minho smirked. He cupped Jisung's face, his thumbs gently gliding over the chubby cheek. Of course there was nothing there, he just needed an excuse to kiss Jisung. When he gently pressed his lips on Jisung's, he sighed, the faint taste of the orange still lingering. Jisung placed his hands on Minho's shoulders, losing himself in the soft kiss. Minho's hands slipped down on Jisung's plump butt, pulling him closer, their crotches barely touching. He gave the butt a good squeeze, and Jisung gasped and blushed furiously.

"You like that?" Minho chuckled lowly.

Jisung nodded eagerly. "But you should stop, or else…"

Minho, being the tease he was, squeezed the butt cheeks again. A not so quiet groan escaped Jisung's throat. His knees trembled and felt a bit weak, his eyes turned glossy. Yep, now he had a hard-on.

Damn you, Minho, you'll pay for that.

"What the fuck?"

Startled, the boys turned to see the truck-man standing there.

"Why is it always you two? Whatever, get back now, we're moving on."

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Sweaty and exhausted, the group arrived at their destination. The inn sat at the foot of a sloped meadow where cows were mooing and leisurely grazing, the bells around their necks jingled with every move. The forest surrounding the area seemed even denser than back at the camp.

Changbin took a deep breath. "Ah, pure country air. Ain't that great?"

"Didn't know you were into sniffing shit," Hyunjin commented casually as he walked by to sit down on one of the two benches in front of the inn.

A very fat man in a denim overall, wearing nothing underneath, stepped out of the house. He carried another bench under one arm like it weighed nothing. He slammed it down on the ground. Wiping his sweaty face, he turned towards the two supervisors.

"Ah, welcome, I'm Heinz," he roared, the accent heavy in his pronunciation, and extended a hand, the supervisors awkwardly bowed, and the fat man named Heinz seemed to realize his faux pas- the clash of two different cultures. "The food will be ready soon, just have a seat, and enjoy the view." He turned around and disappeared back inside.

"I hope the food tastes better than he smells," Jisung mumbled under his breath.

"Jisung!" Minho slapped Jisung's arm, totally baffled by how casually those words came out of his mouth.

"Sorry, hehe."

The food did, indeed, taste absolutely fabulous. Jisung forgot the name of this monstrosity of breaded meat. It was soft and tender on the inside, and crispy on the outside. The creamy potato salad was another highlight. It made up for the endless hiking.

A short, gray haired woman showed them their sleeping arrangements. Opposite the inn there was a smaller building. On the ground floor there were bathrooms, toilets, even a washing machine and tumble dryer. It smelled really weird of forgotten damp towels and laundry detergent. The first floor was closed off, for whatever reason. A steep and narrow ladder led them up towards the attic, and that's where they were supposed to spend the night, on mattresses in an open triangle-shaped space. Large beams ran across the ceiling, hidden cobwebs in every corner. Lovely.

Everyone was quick to choose a mattress; of course no one wanted to sleep surrounded by others, but with ten of them, that was impossible. Jisung and Minho were lucky, they each found a mattress in the far back, with a pillar that separated them a little from the rest. After dropping off their backpacks, most of them went outside again, only Hyunjin and Changbin stayed behind.

Minho took Jisung by the hand as he led him down the hill towards the lake. This part of the countryside felt even more rural than the camp. Insects made an incredible noise, as if they were angry. They sat down at the edge of a short dock, bare feet dipping into the cool water.

Minho leaned back on his hands. "It's nice here," he said, closing his eyes.

Jisung hummed. He splashed his feet a little while his right hand massaged Minho's thigh, he wore short pants, so Jisung had easy access to bare skin. He didn't mean anything by that, he simply wanted to be close, to express his affection with physical touch.

"Minho?" Minho hummed, letting Jisung know that he was listening. "I, uh, I got you something."

Minho opened his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Jisung reached into his pocket and pulled out a little card. "I know you have cats, and back at the store I saw this and it made me think of you."

Minho took the card. It was a holographic image of a kitten playing with a ball of yarn. Tilting it made it jump up and down. The colors shimmered like a metallic rainbow. Minho looked at it and said nothing.

"I know it's silly, sorry…"

Minho's head snapped to Jisung. Emotions were swirling in his eyes which Jisung found difficult to identify. "What- no, don't say that. That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, love."

Love. A different type of warmth spread in Jisung's chest. With his thumb he wiped away a stray tear on Minho's cheek. Their eyes locked and Jisung's heart skipped a beat. Minho leaned in and they fell into a very tender kiss. It was short but oh so sweet. This moment was perfect. If only it could last forever.

"Tell me about your cats. Do they have names?"

Minho fished out his phone and opened the gallery. The first picture he showed Jisung was that of a black and white cat. "This is Alfi, I found him in a trash can, sometimes I call him trashcat." The cat on the next picture looked just the same. "This is Arlo, I got him from a friend."

"Wait, how can you tell the difference?"

"Easy. See Alfi's white nose? Arlo's nose is black." He swapped between the photos, Jisung nodded in understanding. The last picture showed a cat with snow-white fur and mismatched eyes. "This is Moon, got him from a shelter. He's still very young and playful. An adorable nuisance, just like you."

Jisung chuckled, lightly slapping Minho's arm.

"Do you have any pets?" Minho asked.

"Nope, never had. My grandmother wouldn't allow it. But if I had the chance, I'd probably get a dog."

"Yeah, you definitely are a dog-person."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jisung pouted and knitted his brows in feigned hurt. Minho laughed. His laugh was as fresh and carefree as the morning breeze, it was infectious.

They were all over each other again, kissing, hands wandering. Jisung cupped Minho's face before he pulled away a bit to catch his breath. Minho's face was flushed pink, his breathing was heavy. Jisung connected his lips once again with Minho's, and then he trailed soft kisses along his jaw, down his neck where he started sucking the skin between his teeth, gently biting it and licking over the spot right after. Minho shivered. Jisung was incredibly proud of himself for being able to cause such a reaction. A single finger brushed over Minho's crotch.

Minho got hold of Jisung's wrist. "Jisung," he whispered shakily, eyes half closed, "we're not alone."

Jisung glanced around, on the other side of the lake he spotted people pushing a small boat into the water. "Well, you didn't give a fuck back in the forest, your ass grabbing got me a fucking boner."

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A strange thing occurred. Or at least that's what Changbin and Hyunjin said. While everyone was roaming around the area, these two happened to see the supervisors walking away. This by itself was not strange, but their arguing very much so. Hyunjin and Changbin didn't give it much thought, but they became suspicious when the supervisors returned with the man's pick-up truck - after six hours.

"Something's fishy, I can tell," Changbin mused gloomily.

He kept a safe distance to the electric fence. Cows were lazily chewing the green grass. One mooed while observing the group of four humans.

"Dude, you're watching too many crimes shows, it's messing with your head," Hyunjin groaned.

Jisung wanted to tell them about the barking dog from the parking lot, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to talk.

"Maybe they engaged in a special activity," Minho quipped.

Changbin shook his head. "Nah, I don't think so, the way they were fighting-"

"You never had angry sex?" Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows.

"Wha- no! Ew!"

Hyunjin started wrestling Changbin. It was very playful, although Hyunjin didn't stand a chance. The sun disappeared below the horizon and the wind picked up. During the day it was hot as hell. Now with the beginning nightfall, the air was cooling down rapidly. Jisung shivered.

"Let's go back inside," Minho said quietly and wrapped an arm around Jisung.

As they approached the inn, they suddenly heard a shriek, some curse words following right after. Hyunjin was hopping around, Changbin laughed his ass off while simultaneously rubbing Hyunjin's hand. Someone just got electrocuted.

For dinner they had whole-wheat bread and cold cuts of diverse meats and sausages. There were grapes and cheese on a toothpick. Some of those who were 19 years of age, or older, had a glass of freshly drawn beer.

Minho would have preferred a shot of soju, but they had none, and thus he remained sober. Jisung didn't feel like drinking, he felt good with the way he was right now. For once, the supervisors let them be young adults and kept their mouths shut.

The clock ticked the minutes away. Yes, minutes, not hours. The group had a long day that started at 4am. At around 10:30pm everyone was exhausted, those with beer in their system even more so. Soon the triangle shaped attic was filled with snores and occasional farts.

Back in the corner, Jisung and Minho had their mattresses pushed together. Now they were cuddling, Jisung being the big spoon. Minho was topless, and the softness of his scented skin got to Jisung's head. His heart started beating faster as he teasingly caressed Minho's bare arm, squeezing his biceps. Minho trembled ever so slightly when Jisung kissed his neck, just like he did hours ago at the dock. Sneaky fingers traced the outlines of Minho's non-existing abs, went lower until fingernails scratched over coarse hair.

Minho grabbed Jisung's wrist and turned around. "You're insatiable," he whispered in slight disbelieve.

Jisung didn't know what to say at first, so he tried to play it off with a smirk and a shrug. There was barely any light, just enough to see the outlines of Minho's body. "I'm sorry but I just think you're so irresistible," he finally answered, lightly chuckling. "You can't get mad at me for wanting to be close to you."

Minho gulped, but Jisung wasn't able to see this. "You think I'm irresistible?"

Jisung grinned, inching a bit closer to the man next to him. "Yeah, you're strong and beautiful and," Jisung craned his neck to whisper into Minho's ear, "so sexy…"

Minho squirmed very slightly, and a strangled noise came from his throat. With a drawn out exhale, he wrapped his arms around Jisung, and Jisung instinctively wrapped his leg around Minho's waist. Their bodies slotted together like two halves of an amulet.

Jisung's lips were swollen and sore from all the kissing, but what else could he do? Humans expressed their affection through kisses, among other things. His heart was playing drums in his chest, he knew Minho felt the same way, and the temperature in the attic seemed to increase by the second.

Minho tried changing his position a bit and accidentally rolled his hips, making his and Jisung's crotch press together. Through the thin fabric of their pajama pants they could feel each other even more. Jisung let out a surprised groan. His hand flew to his mouth. He listened into the silence. Tense moments went by. It was silent, no one seemed to have heard him.

"Apologies," Minho whispered, but his voice was wobbly from a suppressed chuckle.

The pair shifted into comfier positions, still holding each other but a bit less cramped. Before Jisung drifted off into a deep sleep, he realized that he had never felt this good sharing a bed with anyone else than he did with Minho.

"Good night, Minho."

"Good night, Jisung."

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Jisung woke up to an empty mattress beside him. The attic was quiet, only light snores and breathing could be heard. Everyone was still asleep. No wonder, yesterday they were drinking and no one in their right mind would want to get up early. If Jisung listened closely, he could hear the distant sound of cowbells.

Grabbing his backpack, Jisung quietly headed for the door. When he walked past Hyunjin, he stopped dead in his tracks. Walking backwards, he looked closer. Hyunjin was clinging onto Changbin's muscular arm, both sharing a single blanket. Pretending as if he hadn't seen anything, Jisung left the attic.

He brushed his teeth and combed his hair, when he opened the cap of the concealer, ready to apply the layers, he paused. It probably was no longer a secret that he and Minho had something going on. So, why bother?

The door behind him swung open, and out of clouds of steam stepped the man of his dreams: Lee Minho. Damp hair, a towel over his shoulders, dressed in fresh clothes. He looked immaculate, but something about his posture didn't sit right with Jisung. "Are you alright, Minho?"

Minho used the towel to rub his hair dry. "Yeah, all's good, why do you ask?"

Jisung shrugged. "I don't know," he slowly closed the short distance between him and Minho, "you seem a little... tense." A smile, sweet as honey. Eyes, glinting with... something. "What were you doing in that shower?"

"Uh, taking a shower?"

Jisung stopped an arm's length in front of Minho and took his hand. "Must have been a really good shower, your fingertips are all shriveled up."

Minho blushed, fiercely. He opened his mouth but instead of coherent words, all he did was stutter random syllables. Jisung stood so close to Minho, he could hear his breath hitch in his throat, and smell the fresh fragrance of his shower gel.

Jisung quickly glanced down, then back up to lock eyes with Minho. "You smell good," he said quietly, "but you're still tense, am I right?"

Minho gulped. "I tried to find some relief, but…"

"... but luck wasn't on your side, hm?" Jisung's lips brushed over Minho's like a ghost. "Maybe I can help with that."

Jisung maneuvered Minho back into the white-tiled room with the shower stalls, his back hitting the door.

Minho wrestled the impulse to ask Jisung what he meant with help with that, but he was caught in a trance and could only fall deeper as Jisung looked at him with those dark, round eyes.

"Let me take good care of you," he whispered, wet lips tickling Minho's ear.

Minho's hands automatically found rest on Jisung's waist when he clasped his fingers behind Minho's neck and kissed him. He kissed him softly at first, then as more tongue was added to the game, the minty taste of toothpaste was quickly replaced by something more heated. Jisung's hands slid down to rest on Minho's chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart through the shirt.

Jisung could feel himself getting lost in the sensations. They were just kissing, making out, but he wouldn't mind doing this forever. What was it that drew him so powerfully towards Minho?

Nibbling on Minho's bottom lip, Jisung's hands moved further down until his fingers hooked into belt loops. Jisung kissed the corner of Minho's mouth- when their eyes met for a second, Jisung smiled a little crookedly. A tug on the belt loops, Minho gulped.

Jisung unbuckled Minho's belt while decorating his neck in a trail of wet kisses. A soft jingle and pants met the floor. He reached down and palmed Minho's clothed length.

Minho sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing the other man's waist a bit more. Jisung hummed with satisfaction at this response, but stopped with the kissing and fumbling.

Jisung grinned. "Tell me to stop."

"Keep going."

Minho's voice was rough, which motivated Jisung even more to please him, going lower and lower.

Moans of intense pleasure filled the small space, mingling with remnants of steam.

#minsung #minsung fic #minsung fanfiction #han #han jisung #lee know #lee minho #skz #stray kids #smut

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feriluce · 1 month ago

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⟪What's Left Of You⟫ Chapter 8-The Lost Race | Minsung

The whole way up, beginning from the entrance and up to the second floor, the stench of stale smoke hung thick in the air, triggering the memory of when Jisung had first set foot on the train. Thinking back on it a little more, everything that happened since then seemed so unreal. Back home he could go days, even weeks, without anything happening. Now his life felt like a movie, and he was the protagonist. Scene after scene, building up to something that Jisung could not escape.

Contrary to last time, Jisung was now – believe it or not – five minutes early. Light fell from the windows, illuminating the sterile looking space. As he walked down the hallway, the smell of flavored smoke grew stronger. Jisung stood in front of the white door and raised his hand, ready to knock, when he heard voices from inside the office. He pressed an ear against the door. Two voices, clearly arguing, but unintelligible.

Loud, approaching footsteps. Out of reflex, Jisung leapt backwards, and the door swung open forcefully. Jisung stood there, glued to the spot, watching as a man left the office. When he spotted Jisung, he looked him up and down. For a second too long, his eyes lingered on Jisung's neck and a look of disgust twisted his face – which made Jisung so uncomfortable, he wished he could vanish into thin air. With a shake of his head and a scoff, the man walked away.

The stench of menthol cigarettes that was blowing out from the office scratched in Jisung's lungs and burned in his eyes, it was suffocating. As if someone was smoking in there all night long without ever opening the window. It was awful. Tears welled up in Jisung's eyes, he grabbed the collar of his shirt and lifted it all the way over his nose. He tried not to cough as he knocked on the door.

A woman sat at the desk, face buried in her hands, looking up when she heard knocking. The scowl on her face eased up a bit when she recognized Jisung. "Oh, you're already here, let me just…"

She never finished the sentence but at least she opened the window. A sudden gust of wind stirred up loose sheets of paper, twirling around like startled pigeons. Jisung let go of his shirt. Now the air smelled a lot fresher. Breathing freely was such a privilege.

"Thank you for seeing me." Jisung tried lifting the heavy atmosphere by demonstrating humility, hoping it worked.

The supervisor in front of him was none other than the train-woman. She seemed uncomfortable in her tight suit, the waistband of her pants cut into her belly, there were dark circles under her armpits. If only Jisung could remember her name.

"My colleague, Choi Yu-Seung, will be unavailable for the time being. She asked me to communicate some information to you." The chair squeaked under her weight as she sat back down. Her hands trembled sightly when she started hammering on the keyboard. "Right... Regarding your grandmother... There's a note saying that 'yes, his attendance is backed up by law, but considering that after three weeks, twenty-five percent less debt is ridiculous, better make it fifty percent. Don't tell him that-'"

Jisung immediately perked up. "Don't tell me what?"

"Uh, that's just an internal message."

Annoyance began to bubble in his chest. "Do I look stupid to you?" Jisung rounded the desk and stood beside her, catching a glimpse of the screen, but the supervisor hit two keys and the screen went black.

"Reach over and I'll have you detained," she warned.

"I am entitled to know information about myself. Who or what gives you the right to deny me that?"

"This."

She reached into her button-up shirt and pulled out a lanyard. Her ID-card dangled from a snap hook and right in front of Jisung's face. A finger tapped on the government's golden bird. Her name was displayed in bold letters. Pyong Su-. Jisung didn't catch the rest before she withdrew her ID again.

"Now leave before I lose my temper. And get some concealer, I don't get paid enough for having to deal with your shenanigans."

The hell she yapping about?

Opposite Jisung, there was a file cabinet, and on one of its doors there was a narrow mirror but wide enough for Jisung to catch his reflection and - oh my fucking god - countless bruises in red and deep purple covered half of his throat.

Damn you, Minho!

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Camouflage. Matte. Wake Up. Flawless. Anti-Age. Serum. Cream. Stick.

Jisung's head started spinning as he tried to decipher what those terms meant. In moments like these he wished he had a big sister. An annoying sibling who would forcefully teach him all the basic stuff girls had to deal with. But instead of doing some research himself, he preferred relying on being gay. Simple.

With a sigh, he took two items and held them out as if he was comparing them. They had the same shade, but the one in his left hand seemed a little lighter, maybe? Looking at himself in the little mirror, he held the items alternately to his neck. None of them seemed to fit his skin tone.

"Need a little help?"

Jisung turned around to see a rather young-looking woman. She was dressed like all the staff in a formal suit. Only difference, she wore a white sleeveless coat, pens and other items peeked out from the pockets.

"Yeah, I don't really know which one…"

Her eyes flitted to his neck. "I see. If you want to cover up spots, I recommend the camouflage." She quickly found the right product and handed it to Jisung. "It should go well with your skin tone. You can try it out."

Jisung had never done this before. He unscrewed the cap, eyeing the brush that was attached to it. This couldn't get any more awkward.

"Use the brush to apply it on your skin," with a finger she demonstrated the motion on her own neck, "let it sit for a couple seconds, then gently dab it out in a circular way, until the edges are soft and invisible. You might want to go for several layers."

Jisung did as instructed. Turned out, it was really easy. After the third layer, he couldn't tell anymore what was under all that make-up. With a happy smile, he hopped to the counter, where the saleswoman was already waiting.

She scanned the bar code on the concealer. "That'll be thirty-thousand Won."

Jisung's eyes widened. "That's a lot of money for this little bottle."

"Well, if this was a supermarket, then it'd be a bit cheaper, but since we're not, and because of financial reasons, we have to sell for a higher price."

Jisung groaned on the inside when he handed her the appropriate amount of cash. Maybe he should have just endured it like a man. Hickeys on full display. But no, Jisung had his share of homophobia, he didn't need more of that, and since all the participants here were male, there was no way of using a girl as a scapegoat. Leaving the camp's small store, the smell of cooked food wafted over the courtyard, making his mouth water instantly.

Back in his cabin, he found Minho sitting by the desk. He seemed to be engrossed in writing something. Jisung used the chance to sneak up on him. Slowly, his arms wrapped around Minho's middle, catching a hint of Minho's perfume- fresh and manly. Jisung planted a soft kiss on his cabinmate's neck.

"What are you writing?" he asked, sitting down on the chair next to Minho.

"That's private." Minho didn't bother covering his journal though. "How was your appointment?"

"That's private." Jisung smirked, secretly enjoying teasing Minho. That was the only perk of being younger; acting like a little shit and getting away with it. Something about the way Minho's eyes latched onto him made Jisung drop the attitude though. "It was... okay, I guess."

"Is something bothering you?" Now Minho closed his journal.

Jisung's tough facade cracked. "I was told that me being here is legitimate. Just so you know, no one told me anything about this whole camp thing beforehand."

"Yeah, I figured. They really tossed you into cold water."

Jisung hummed. "It was my grandmother. Usually she's pedantic about details, I don't know why she..." Jisung's voice trailed off, the feeling of betrayal stabbing his heart.

"Did you call her?"

Jisung crossed his arms. "Oh, no no. I won't do that."

"Why not?" Minho smiled, slightly amused by Jisung's pout.

"I... I might say something dumb."

"I'd call her, if I were you. You know, communication is key, don't allow feelings to bottle up until they spill over. It never ends well."

"You sound like Felix," Jisung muttered under his breath.

"What?"

Jisung waved off, leaning back in his chair and manspreading to give himself some sort of confidence before he pulled out his phone. His thumb hovered over the green dial button. It's just a phone call, nothing to be afraid of. It rang three times before his grandmother answered.

"Grandma, it's me."

"Oh, Jisung, so good to hear you! How are you, are you having fun at the camp?" She sounded so sweet and delicate. Jisung didn't have the heart to be his usual bratty self.

"It's fine, really. The food is marvelous, and you were right, they have a lot of activities."

"Well, I am very glad you're saying that. Did you make friends? I might repeat myself here, but making friends is the most important thing while you're young."

Jisung looked up and met Minho's gaze. "Actually, yeah, I did." They smiled at each other, but Minho looked a bit confused, of course, because he had no context to Jisung's words. He heard her saying something, but it got pushed into the background as he lost himself in Minho's eyes. With a shake of his head, he forced himself back into the conversation with his grandmother. "Are you busy? You sound like you're weightlifting."

Chae-Won chuckled. "I'm working in my garden, flowers won't bloom without human interaction. Speaking of, it is time for a lunch break. Jisung, please continue to stay in the camp, don't do anything reckless, and have fun. Let's talk another time, yes?"

"I will, grandma, you know me. And you take good care of you too. Bye!"

Jisung waited for his grandmother to hang up first, which she did after a few seconds. He had every right to question her decision-making. He had every right to be mad at her, and yet... Maybe this was the moment he should consider therapy.

"You love your grandmother," Minho said into the silence, smiling ever so lovely at Jisung.

Jisung nodded sheepishly. "I do, she basically raised me." He didn't feel like going into detail so he stood up and went over to where the console was. "You still owe me the first round."

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The missed breakfast caused their stomachs to rumble painfully. After playing for only half an hour, they headed to the canteen. They quickly stuffed their bellies with roast beef, potatoes, and gravy. Then they hurried back to continue playing. Now they had all the time in the world. No classes, no trips.

For the next three hours, they played through every game, ending up with 'Crash Team Racing' as the last one. It was like 'Mario Cart' but better. Two players competed against each other on a racing track – there were many tracks to choose from, each with different levels of difficulty. Jisung chose 'Crash Bandicoot' as his avatar, Minho went for 'Tiny Tiger'.

'Oxide Station', a racing track that caused many players to rage quit, siblings started fighting, relationships found a tragic end. Jisung's avatar shot past Minho's, laughing like a maniac, now taking first place. What he forgot was that Minho had planted a TNT-crate on a tricky corner, and Jisung slammed right into it. His part of the split screen turned red. Crash bounced up and down like a rubber ball. Jisung could only stare and watch as Minho finished the race first. Confetti popped.

"I never win," Jisung pouted.

"Aw, come on, you did good." Minho pushed him playfully. "One more round, maybe I'll let you win."

Minho zapped through the available levels. He almost chose 'Coco Park', a track for babies, but that would've been be kinda mean. While Minho's gaze was focused on the screen, Jisung stared at his side profile, and then his eyes wandered down to Minho's neck. His head was empty. All his eyes could do was look him up and down, his brain could only register the seductive beauty of this man. Jisung had no conscious control over his body. He simply leaned in and kissed Minho on the cheek. Minho looked at him, the tip of his ears quickly turned red.

"Have I ever told you," Jisung whispered, inching closer, "how beautiful you are?"

Minho shook his head. "Say it again, please," he whispered.

Jisung gently cupped Minho's face with one hand. "You... are so... beautiful."

Drawn out words, quietly uttered, only for Minho to hear, his heart fluttered. They way Jisung looked at him from eye to eye, his sugary smile, his sparkling eyes. The scent of his honey skin. It was all too much. Minho felt shy and excited and happy and needy- all at once.

"Hyung…"

This simple word ignited Minho's desire, he blinked rapidly. "Can I kiss you?"

Jisung cracked a sweet smile. "You don't have to ask."

One hand landed on Jisung's neck and Minho pulled him into an immediately passionate kiss. His other hand started squeezing Jisung's thigh. Every squeeze earned him a soft moan from Jisung, which turned him on even more. Jisung's hands tightly gripped the fabric of Minho's shirt. Kissing Jisung is the fucking best!

The smacking of their lips must have been the most arousing and erotic sound they have ever heard. Heavy breathing turned into moans as they were making out and feeling each other up.

Jisung was dizzy, his head was clouded and foggy, his body seemed to burn up. Kissing Minho is the fucking best!

When their lips detached, they clung on to each other in an impossibly close embrace, trying to catch their breath. After some time, they pulled apart a bit more, allowing them to look at each other more comfortably.

Minho was the first to speak. "I could've sworn I decorated you with some hickeys."

"I've been stared at! Do you know how embarrassing that was? This is your fault."

Jisung pulled out the concealer from his pocket. Minho took it and eyed it suspiciously, then he tossed it onto the desk, thankfully it didn't roll down, or else Jisung would've been so mad.

"You need some more." Minho pushed Jisung down on the bed. He even tried to wipe the concealer off of his neck.

"Ya, stop that! That shit was expensive!" Jisung's protests turned into giggles and laughter when Minho started tickling him. Tears from laughing so hard trickled down his cheeks. His face was flushed red.

The sound of Jisung laughing was now Minho's favorite melody.

#minsung #minsung fic #minsung fanfiction #han #han jisung #lee know #lee minho #skz #stray kids

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feriluce · 1 month ago

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⟪What's Left Of You⟫ Chapter 7-The Sushi| Minsung

Warning: *smut.

6:10pm 1 new message

Going back to the bathroom was a bad idea. Jisung was really trying to keep himself busy, as he still felt a little bit of bitterness from being forbidden to go out. So he organized his part of the wardrobe. Not that he had a lot of stuff anyway, he was done in no time. After that, he went to the bathroom, not because he needed to, but because there was this tiny tub of lip balm.

Jisung stood there and looked at it. With sweaty and slightly trembling hands, he unscrewed the lid. The intense fragrance of sweet strawberry hit him like the sudden wall of hot, humid air after leaving a cool room. Minho smelled like strawberry. Does he taste like it too? No, no this is bad, a bad idea, I shouldn't -

Startled by his own thoughts, Jisung put the tub back and hurried to exit the cabin.

There was a fenced gate that separated the main area of the camp from the cabins. Coming from the cabins and to the left there was the staff's residence; a rather high building with trees to the side for privacy. Jisung sat beneath such a tree. There were some bushes and piles of wood, from which he had a perfect view to the entrance but he himself would stay hidden.

Did he just discover the best hiding spot? Hell yeah he did. He pulled out his phone, wanting to play some mindless game, when the entrance door to the staff's residence swung open. Two people rushed outside, they seemed to argue. Jisung couldn't understand them, but the closer they got to him, the more their loud words made sense.

"I do not want to be associated with this!" a tall man yelled, gesticulating wildly. "Do you know how much I have to lose?!"

Jisung cowered deeper into the bushes, and pulled his legs up to his chest. The tall man grabbed a large bough that was lying around and snapped it onto the ground. It sounded like a whip. Jisung flinched.

"It was an accident, I swear!" the woman whined.

Her voice sounded familiar, but Jisung couldn't place it. She was standing right behind the man, completely blocked by him.

"People don't die accidentally!"

"Well, actually…"

"Oh shut up, I need to think."

They both went back inside from where they came, leaving a totally confused and slightly scared Jisung back in the bushes. He shook his head. What just happened? Then he remembered seeing a notification on his phone. It was just Felix, who had sent him a selfie of a very fancy coffee with whipped cream and caramel on top. Jisung giggled, ultimately forgetting about the weird encounter from a couple minutes ago.

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At 6:45pm, Jisung trudged back up the gravel road towards his cabin. He passed some people working around the campfire pit, who were setting everything up for later. Jisung kept walking.

Back at his cabin, he found Minho sitting on the floor next his bed. He had his back turned, so he didn't notice him approaching. Minho was mumbling to himself, fidgeting with something. Minho's hair looked so fluffy, even more so from the back.

"Hey," Jisung said loudly. "Whatcha doing?"

Minho flinched. "The fu- oh it's you."

Jisung sat down next to him. There was a console, controller, and a lot of tangled cables.

"No way!" Jisung exclaimed, grabbing a game casing. "Sly Cooper, I used to play that game when I was a kid."

"I'll let you play a round, once I have those darn cables untangled." Minho struggled, then gave up and tossed them to the side.

"There's a trick to it."

Just as Jisung reached out to grab the cables, Minho shifted on his knees and their faces moved dangerously close. So close that Jisung could feel Minho's breath fanning over him. Time froze as their eyes locked. Minho's eyes flashed down to Jisung's mouth. Lips now mere millimeters apart.

Jisung's hand automatically found Minho's cheek, caressing it gently. This was the moment he's been fantasizing about, it surprisingly came faster than expected. "Can I kiss you?" Jisung whispered, heart drumming.

"Yes," Minho breathed out.

Jisung's mouth felt dry and his heart was drumming in his chest. He was so nervous, but the good kind of nervous that gave him enough courage to lean in and connect his lips with Minho's. It was a simple peck. Soft, sweet, both boys a blushing mess. Once their lips parted, Jisung knew that he wouldn't be satisfied with just a simple peck.

The first few moments after something intimate like that were always a bit awkward. They shared glances, while grinning and blushing even more, before the atmosphere relaxed again.

"I, uh, I got you some sushi, it's on your bedside table."

Jisung craned his neck, looking over, and indeed, on the small table there was a small box. "Oh nice, how much do I owe you?"

Minho shook his head slightly. "My treat."

"After dinner, some of the other guys are having a little get-together. Wanna join?"

"Sure, sounds fun."

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The fire crackled as dry sticks and branches were being tossed into the flames. Sparks flew everywhere. At one point, two night watchmen entered the scene, giving everyone a stern warning. Next time they won't hesitate and shut it all down, the end for any future campfire fun.

A frail looking boy with a rat's face tried to stir up shit by pouring alcohol into the fire pit. Thank goodness Changbin saw it, tackled him, and dragged him away. No one would ever know what he did to that boy between the trees, but when they returned, rat-boy stammered an apology, sat down and remained quiet for the rest of the night.

Minho was sitting on a log next to Jisung. Hyunjin passed them each a can of beer. Between taking sips from the carbonated, cool liquid and laughing at dirty jokes, the sun disappeared and night took over, casting a chilly shadow over them all.

Unconsciously, Jisung's hand had moved, it didn't take long until his pinkie finger brushed over the back of Minho's hand. Minho looked at him, smiling sweetly. In a swift movement he looped his arm around Jisung's middle, fumbling with his shirt. Jisung had to act like nothing was happening as he felt Minho's cool fingers caressing his bare skin.

The alcohol was flowing freely, and now they were at a point, where everything felt easy. Inner barriers and guards down. Jisung only had half a can, he knew his limits well enough, and he never liked the taste of alcohol anyways. He happily noticed that Minho was also still sipping on his first can.

"Listen up, everybody!" Hyunjin rose, he swayed a bit as he drank the last sip from his beer, scrunched up the can and tossed it away. "Why don't we- why don't we tell a little something of ourselves? Like, what's your crime, haha."

"Then you should start with yourself!" Changbin shouted, his voice had gotten obnoxiously louder the more he drank.

"Me? Uh, okay... has anyone of you fuckers ever heard of 'Sexy Hwang Dynamite'?"

"Isn't that the guy who vandalized some public restroom in Seoul?" a boy with big glasses asked.

"Not just any restroom, the one right in front of the parliament. I was making a statement." Hyunjin put his hands on his hips, looking all proud.

"What statement? And why that silly nickname? Like you're some kind of rapper." Changbin laid into him relentlessly, causing others to snicker. "All you did was clogging the toilets and you ran away after it flooded. Sexy Hwang Dynamite? My ass! Coward Hwang Poopy Hands!"

Hyunjin flopped down next to Changbin and put him in a headlock. "I'll give you Coward-Hwang-Poopy-Hands, you colossal, booger eating twat!"

They wrestled with each other. Everyone watched in both amusement and second hand embarrassment. Were they friends even before they met here at the camp? Changbin was obviously stronger than Hyunjin, he quickly freed himself from the headlock and punched Hyunjin's arm. A yelp, and everything was good again.

That's how Jisung learned that Minho was sent here because he stole products from a high-end electronics store. Jisung even shot him a glance, wondering if he had stolen the console and games which were in their cabin. But Minho avoided meeting his questioning gaze.

Jisung got to tell of his debt which, compared to the crimes of others, was rather minor. It still bugged him a bit, but for now the alcohol subdued any too negative emotions. Minho's hand wandered along Jisung's waist. He was enjoying the warm and tingling sensation very much. With his head on Minho's shoulder, he leaned further into the touch. For a moment he thought he had fallen asleep, when he got startled and looked around.

"Wanna go sleep?" Minho asked quietly.

Jisung nodded and yawned. He let Minho help him get up, then they said their goodbyes. As they walked to their cabin, holding each other, Jisung had only one thing on his mind: To kiss Minho again. How should he go about that without coming off as pushy, or creepy? Did Minho even feel the same way?

"I'll let you go first," Minho offered, standing in front of the bathroom. "You look like you could fall asleep any second."

"O-okay, thanks, I'll be quick. And I'm not tired." He yawned and made it a point to finish his night time routine in a new best time. There was still the lip balm tub. No, touching other people's stuff is a big no-no. But he tastes so good…

Jisung sat on his bed, waiting for Minho to come out of the bathroom. Mentally he was prepared to ask him for a goodnight kiss. A totally normal thing to ask one's cabinmate. When Minho did step out of the bathroom, all Jisung could do was stare up at this beautiful man. Mind blank. Great, haha...ha.

"Good night, Jisung," Minho smirked.

"Night, Minho…"

Sad and disappointed in himself, he sank back into the pillow. The lights went out, silence filled the room. He kept looking over to where Minho was, wishing he could be closer. Sighing, he turned around and closed his eyes.

Then he heard the ruffling of sheets and the sound of bare feet over wooden floor.

Jisung felt the mattress dip, his own blanket lifted. He was too stunned to speak when Minho laid down right next to him, facing each other under the covers. They were so close again. Sweet strawberry scent. Jisung almost passed out when he felt a warm hand on his face.

"Hyung-"

"Shut up…"

This time, Minho took the lead. They connected their lips for a quick peck but when Minho pulled back and immediately reconnected their lips again, it felt different. More passionate. Jisung loved how his body reacted to this.

He allowed Minho to deepen the kiss by placing a hand on his neck, pulling him even closer. After some timid tries, their tongues met and Jisung let out a small moan. Minho smiled into the kiss, his hand wandered down along Jisung's waist.

Jisung now felt relaxed enough to let go of the blanket he was gripping the whole time. He rested his hand on Minho's biceps. Feeling how his hot skin and muscles moved under his touch, Jisung burned up with desire.

It got even worse when Minho decided to intertwine their legs. He squeezed Jisung's waist, the taste of toothpaste and strawberries was long gone, and instead replaced with heated arousal.

"Min- Minho," Jisung whispered between kisses, giggles, and gasps for breath. "Minho, wait."

Minho stopped kissing him but their lips still slightly touched. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it's just... I really like you right now and..." Jisung lost track of what he wanted to say- how to form words.

Minho gently caressed Jisung's cheek. "Am I going too fast?" he asked quietly. "We can slow down if that's what you need."

Jisung's head was spinning. He took a deep breath and started anew. "Hyung, I feel so good and all I need right now is you."

A breathless moment passed, and even though it was mostly dark in their cabin, Jisung could clearly see Minho's grin.

"Good," Minho whispered, "because I need you too."

He leaned in once more and started kissing Jisung until their arousal was back to the level from a minute ago. With one hand, Minho grabbed the collar of Jisung's t-shirt and yanked it over his head. Jisung wanted to do the same, but Minho has been shirtless all along. He didn't hold back and touched all over Minho as they made out, now their bare chests pressing together.

Jisung started to squirm, his mind was going crazy with the other's weight halfway over him, his tongue pushing deeper into Jisung's mouth. Minho rolled his hips down onto Jisung who let out a groan and a swear word.

Sitting up, he pushed Minho back on the bed. Jisung climbed on top of him, legs intertwined. With confidence, Jisung leaned in once again and k̶i̶s̶s̶e̶d̶ devoured Minho. Moving his lips, savoring each second, gently sucking and nibbling at the other's bottom lip, sending shivers all over his body. He could feel Minho's erection hardening against his leg.

Jisung felt absolutely dazed by the taste of Minho, by how his hands held onto Jisung's waist; by the low moans that escaped his throat as they slowly fell into a rhythm of moving bodies.

They paused for a moment, looking at each other with half closed and glossy eyes. When Minho's hands slid under Jisung's boxers and grabbed his butt with both hands rather fiercely, he almost fainted.

Jisung propped himself on his hands, focused on grinding his erection down onto Minho. His back arched as his hips moved faster and faster. Needy and desperate.

"I'm close," Jisung breathed shakily.

"Me too," Minho groaned out, "don't stop..."

This was more than Jisung ever could have imagined. The alcohol in his system probably played some role in this, but as long as he and Minho were consenting, it didn't matter.

Looking at each other, breathing shallow and frantic, Jisung was the first to reach his climax, followed by Minho shortly after. When the electrifying release hit, Minho clang tightly onto Jisung.

Riding out his orgasm, Jisung waited for Minho to ease up the embrace. Then he rolled over on the bed beside him, panting, dizzy, but feeling so good.

Amidst the silence, realization hit them both at the same time. They looked at each other- and burst out laughing. Gasping for breath, trying to utter words, but failing miserably, which caused them to laugh even more.

"You good?" Jisung finally got out, still shaking with laughter.

Minho wiped tears from his eyes. "Yeah, you too?"

Jisung looked down at himself. "Well, I guess I need a shower."

"Let's go together," Minho suggested excitedly.

"... Together?"

"C'mon!"

Without hesitation, Minho got up and took Jisung by the hand, easily dragging him with him. Jisung had no strength left, he was like wax in Minho's grip.

With a blank mind, and the pressing need to wash himself, Jisung found himself standing in the bathroom. Naked. Why was he feeling a little shy all of a sudden? Maybe because he was staring at Minho's pretty butt.

Minho tested the shower's temperature. He held out his arm, the water trickled over his fingers, until steam filled the small bathroom. Then he turned around and carefully led Jisung into the small shower cabin. Minho had his head thrown a bit backwards as the hot water soaked his hair and ran over his chest, down his body.

It was the first time Jisung saw Minho's body. He had felt his arms and his torso just minutes ago. Now together with the visual, he couldn't help but stare. He should feel awkward, being in this situation. Showering with someone he'd only known for a couple days. But for some reason, Jisung felt content. A bit shy, though, given that there's an unearthly beautiful man in front of him. Minho's body was simply perfect.

Minho moved the shower head towards Jisung, so he could apply shampoo on his scalp. Jisung's eyes followed along the foam that was sliding down Minho's neck and chest. The more the hot water drenched him, the more relaxed he became. Minho turned off the water. Jisung closed his eyes and let out a satisfied hum as Minho applied shampoo on Jisung's head, gently massaging his scalp with his fingers. He didn't even notice how his arms wrapped around Minho's waist.

Minho smiled warmly at the sight. Jisung's eyes were closed, his mouth half open, pink chubby cheeks. The steam somehow made his honey skin glow. He let the water run again, washing off the excess shampoo.

Jisung opened his eyes, smiling but avoiding eye contact at the same time. He took the bottle of liquid soap.

"You gonna wash me?" Minho asked, grinning mischievously.

"No," Jisung retorted dryly.

Minho scoffed and snatched the bottle out of Jisung's hand. He allowed himself a generous amount of soap, and put the bottle back on the rack. He turned around and washed himself, getting the smell of sex off of him. Behind him, he clearly heard Jisung huffing and puffing. Oh, he's so going to keep teasing that little hamster-boy.

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

A rumbling that was very similar to thunder hammered against the door, cracking splinters off the wooden frame. The noise became louder. Jisung was forced awake. Before the day even started, he was already over and done with it. He cracked an eye open and saw Minho answering the door. There was loud talking but Jisung couldn't hear shit. When it was quiet again, he groaned and rolled over, trying to fall asleep again.

He heard Minho calling his name but he didn't bother reacting to it.

"Jisung," Minho repeated, now shaking Jisung by the shoulders.

"What, what is it?" Jisung glowered at him.

"You turn that frown upside down, sad clown," Minho said in a low and threatening tone but when Jisung's expression changed a bit, he laughed with amusement. He crawled under the covers and hugged Jisung like a baby monkey, nuzzling his face in the nape of his neck.

Jisung instantly relaxed. The annoyance of being woken up - gone. He could feel Minho's lips grazing the skin right under his jaw, but Minho pulled back, teasing.

"There was someone at the door, saying you have an appointment at 10:30."

"Where? With whom?"

"Uh... Choi... I forgot the rest. Social Work."

Jisung remembered yesterday's short, anger-filled conversation he had with the woman from social work. She said she had news regarding his grandmother. Finally, he would find out whether he was rightfully here or not.

"What's the time?"

"Don't know," Minho's voice came out muffled.

Jisung reached over to the bedside table. Not an easy task because Minho was kinda in the way.

"We missed breakfast."

"Oh, no~" Minho sang sarcastically.

What Jisung didn't notice was Minho's inner struggle. Jisung's soft neck looked so damn delicious. He fought with every fiber of his body to not cover his honey skin in a thousand hickeys. Han Jisung, what have you done with me?

"I still got the sushi!"

After Jisung had gotten up to get the sushi, he sat cross legged on his bed, Minho beside him.

Minho made a face. "How can you still want to eat that, it's been outside since yesterday evening."

"Hey, don't blame me, I got distracted last night." Jisung side-eyed him, Minho smirked. "But," Jisung opened the package and took a sniff, "it still smells good, now open up."

He took a piece of sushi, dipped it into the wasabi, and held it in front of Minho's mouth. Reluctantly, he opened his mouth a little. Jisung was patient. He waited until Minho's mouth was open wide enough, then he shoved the wasabi coated piece of sushi inside. Jisung smiled in satisfaction, then he took another piece - carefully making sure that no wasabi was on it - and started eating. One by one, they shared each piece with each other. Jisung accidentally got the last one with wasabi on it; he hissed at the spiciness, hands flailing, Minho laughing.

"Ya! Stop laughing!" Jisung slapped the other's arm slightly.

"Make me."

Jisung blinked. Minho's laughter ceased when Jisung pushed him back on the bed and straddled him. Seeing Minho lying under him certainly was a sight to behold Those intense eyes and that sly grin on his pretty face. Jisung bit his lip as he pulled up the hem of Minho's shirt, revealing a soft belly. Then he leaned down, kissing the soft skin next to Minho's navel. He looked up and got lost in Minho's warm brown eyes.

"You're too slow," Minho whispered, a spark in his eye.

And suddenly Jisung was flipped over like a pancake – Minho over him. He grabbed both of Jisung's hands with his left hand and held them over his head.

"You took the last sushi," he whispered into Jisung's ear, "this is considered rude in our culture."

Jisung gulped. "Wh-What are you gonna do about that?"

Slowly, Minho traced a finger down along Jisung's neck, stopping at his collarbone. "You'll see."

#minsung #minsung fic #minsung fanfiction #smut #mild smut #han jisung #han #lee know #lee minho #skz #stray kids

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feriluce · 1 month ago

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⟪What's Left Of You⟫ Chapter 6-The Butterflies | Minsung

Joints cracked as Jisung stretched his arms. He was able to sleep through the night and not wake up once, so he welcomed the feeling of waking up feeling rejuvenated the next morning. The early sun sent her soft rays through the cracks and into the cabin where the blinds weren't fully closed. Jisung stayed in bed for a while, enjoying the comfortable quiet before he got up and opened the window. The air smelled of dew, icy fresh and moist. He inhaled deeply.

Yesterday, after they had arrived back at the camp, they told him that he was allowed to abstain from physically demanding activities. At least until he had examinations done and the diagnosis suggested otherwise. There wasn't much the doctor at the parkour park could have done.

Not wanting to startle his cabinmate, Jisung quietly closed the window. His bag was still on the floor next to his bed, clothes and other items were all a disorganized mess. There was a spacious closet, why not use it? He rummaged through the bag, grabbed fresh underwear, and locked the bathroom door.

With the towel over his shoulders, Jisung exited the bathroom, sending clouds of steam outside. He felt fresh and so good. On the way back to his bed, something caught his eye. On Minho's nightstand there was a framed picture, the glass was reflecting the light and made it blink. On tiptoes, Jisung stepped closer and squinted. Three cats with big round eyes. Adorable. Jisung wondered if those belonged to Minho.

Minho as a cat-butler? Now that would be something. Him all snuggled up, suffocated by furbabies, his beautiful face sticking out, smiling.

Before he knew it, Jisung started grinning like an idiot. If he didn't have ears, he would've smiled all around his face. Suddenly, Minho moved in his bed, startling Jisung who quickly made a beeline to where he intended to go in the first place- the closet.

Shortly after breakfast, Jisung returned to his cabin. Minho had missed it and when Jisung saw him sitting on his bed, he sighed with relief. "Good morning," Jisung sang with a smile.

"Morning," Minho grumbled.

"I brought you something."

Jisung placed something on the desk. Several pancakes wrapped in a napkin, two small portions of jam, a fried egg with mini sausages on a plate, and a glass of orange juice. Don't ask how he managed to smuggle all of that away, this was Jisung we're talking about.

Minho stepped closer. He was squinting, eyes still a bit heavy with sleep. He pointed at himself and raised his eyebrows questioningly. Jisung nodded.

"Why?" Minho asked, but Jisung just shrugged, finding Minho's disbelief quite amusing. "Thank you."

Jisung took a step back, he could have sworn Minho wanted to hug him. Or even just slap him on the shoulder. God, Jisung, pull yourself together.

Jisung flopped down on his bed and played a game on his phone. From the corner of his eyes he secretly observed Minho. How he gulped down every piece of food. How he got ready to take a shower. How he came back, droplets of water rolling down his neck, how the sun rays illuminated his tanned skin…

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

8:15am Gymnastics

Jisung felt great, as if he could rip out a tree by its roots – perfectly able to engage in some light exercise. But he was denied to even set foot in the gym. Begrudgingly, he turned around and left. From now until the afternoon, he had nothing to do. Finance class had been canceled. He didn't mind though.

As he trudged along the gravel road, up to where the cabins were, his path was blocked by two figures. Scowling, he looked up and recognized Changbin and the beanstalk-boy. Did Jisung ever learn his name?

"What?" Jisung uttered in a rather snotty tone.

Changbin scoffed. "Your mother never taught you manners?"

That stung, being reminded in such an untimely fashion that he, in fact, did not have a mother. She died when he was a little kid. The image of her being all hooked up to machines still haunted his dreams sometimes.

"Well, neither did yours it seems," Jisung clapped back, "so you better wipe your mouth, there's still some bullshit around your lips."

Beanstalk-boy snorted, looking at Changbin with blatant glee. "Oh, I like him already," he said, now turning to Jisung. "I'm Hwang Hyunjin."

"Han Jisung."

"You seem like a chill dude. We're planning to do a BBQ tonight, wanna join us? Might have a drink or two."

Jisung knew that alcohol, or any type of drug, was forbidden inside the camp. He also knew that from 4pm to 6:45pm they were allowed to go visit the next town over. And most definitely he knew how to keep his mouth shut. No one liked a snitch.

"Sounds like a plan."

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

Artistic Expression 1:30pm – 3:30pm

"Painting is a visual art that captures the expression of ideas and emotions."

The instructor, a stocky semi-bald man, stood in front of a desk. With his hands folded over his belly, he looked like a grandpa telling a fairy tale. He seemed friendly. Colorful stains were splattered over his white jeans. His glasses kept sliding down his nose and with his index finger he pushed it back up.

"Dating way back into the Upper Paleolithic, humans all over the earth, of any epoch, regardless of culture, have made use of the art of painting. With the rise of…"

Jisung zoned out, bored by the endless rambling. Next to him sat Minho who kept stealing glances to Jisung. His heart skipped a beat every time he noticed it. Today Minho had his hair combed back which exposed his forehead in a way that made Jisung simply stare.

Gosh, his side profile…

When the whole class – a total of ten people – started walking around, Jisung and Minho looked around in confusion. Everyone got together in pairs of two, standing behind an easel with a canvas on it.

Shyly, Minho raised his hand. "Excuse me, sir, what is our task again?"

The man looked at Minho over the brim of his glasses. "Ah, I was already wondering when you two gentlemen liked to join us again." He explained the task while walking around his desk to sit down on a swivel chair. "Just take a canvas and paint what you feel. There's no right or wrong." With a sigh, he pulled out a newspaper from the desk's drawer and started reading.

Minho tugged on Jisung's sleeve. "Look, there's still one available," he whispered, pointing to the far back of the room.

There were tubes of acrylic paint and brushes in every size on a small table, each easel had their own equipment, so no one had to share. While Jisung looked through the utensils, Minho went to fill a cup with water.

Now they stood there, their minds as blank as the canvas.

"Have you ever painted before?" Minho wondered.

Jisung scoffed, trying to play it cool. "Of course I have, in elementary school."

Without further ado, Minho grabbed a tube with black color and squeezed an enormous blob on the palette. Then he took a wide brush with sturdy bristles, dabbed it into the water, mixed it with some of the paint, and began covering the whole canvas in a deep, saturated black.

They way Minho held and moved the brush, certainly confident, and yet, Jisung couldn't help but wonder why it had to be black. Why that dark approach? What did it mean in the context of 'paint what you feel'?

Jisung, again, stared at Minho. But Minho seemed to find the label on the tube quite interesting. Timidly, Jisung reached out to grab something from the small table, but at the exact same time, Minho decided to put his tube down, accidentally hitting Jisung in the process. With a hiss, Jisung pulled his hand back.

"Oh, my gosh, I'm so sorry," Minho apologized, looking startled. "Did I hurt you? Are you okay?" He took Jisung's hand into his and turned it around to see if there was a wound, gently rubbing his thumb over the spot.

"I-I'm fine, it's... it's okay, really," Jisung stuttered.

His stomach did the thing, his heart was beating faster. This time Jisung didn't freeze, this time he placed his other hand on Minho's and looked up. Their eyes locked. Jisung smiled and Minho smiled back. Time seemed to stop, existence reduced to a bubble with only Jisung and Minho inside.

No further words were spoken as Jisung prepared the white paint, painting over the blackness until it almost disappeared. Minho didn't even wait for it to dry, he simply added all the different colors into it. It was a mess. A pastel-colored mess, smeared across the canvas. They started snickering once they messed up each other's work.

How bold of Jisung to smear a blob of yellow paint on Minho's cheek. How bold of him to laugh. It was moments like these that he would think back on when he began wondering, 'how did it all start?'.

As if they were art connoisseurs, Jisung and Minho beheld their masterpiece of a painting. Chests swollen with pride, a pretentious smirk on their lips.

"The purple really makes this mess pop," Minho said in a posh accent. "Who would've thought you knew how to hold a brush."

"I'm an ace, old man," Jisung protested, wiggling a warning finger.

And suddenly Minho's arm looped around Jisung's back and his hand landed right on Jisung's waist. He blushed at the slight squeeze, his breath hitched in his throat.

The instructor went from pair to pair, asking them to interpret their painting and giving them adequate credits. Jisung tried to listen but Minho's hand and the closeness of his warm body was so... dizzying.

"And what do we have here?"

Jisung flinched at the unexpectedly booming voice of the instructor. The way his eyes scanned the painting, it seemed like he knew what happened inside the artists heart and soul.

"Oh, interesting. Would you like to tell us something about it, Minho?"

Minho cleared his throat. "Well, it actually started with me painting it all black, as in nothing. Black is nothing, if that makes sense. Then we did what we felt like doing."

"So the contrast, with a little black still shining through, would you say that there's still 'nothing' there? Jisung?"

Jisung blinked at the man. "Uh…"

"I see," the instructor paused for a moment, "very interesting work, I must say, well done, full credits."

And with that, the class was dismissed. Jisung decided in this moment that 'arts class' was his favorite.

Walking out the door of the 'secondary building', Jisung noticed a gathering of people in front of the main building's entrance. As he walked over, the chatter grew louder and everyone tried to get the best spot at what looked like an announcement. A sheet of paper behind a glass case.

"102, let's go!"

"105!"

"Aw, man, I missed it by one point!"

Jisung squeezed through the crowd, Minho following right behind.

|| Regarding the short vacation from 4pm to 6:45pm

Participants are required to sign off and upon return sign back in at the front desk!

Required amount of credits: 100 (out of a maximum of 105)

no exceptions!

Han Jisung: 85 ||

Jisung's heart dropped. He kinda suspected that he didn't gain a lot of credits but that it was that low felt like a punch in the gut. He didn't even check Minho's, blinded by rage he marched straight into the main building and up to the front desk.

"I need someone to talk!" Jisung demanded loudly.

The secretary looked up from the phone, giving him a grossed out glance. She ended the call, told Jisung to wait a moment, and disappeared through a back door. Just as he was about to slam his fist on the desk, the door opened and out stepped the lady from social work. Choi Yu-Seung.

"Jisung, what's the matter?" she asked calmly.

"Why do I only have 85?" He glared at her, waiting impatiently for an answer but that answer better be a good one. Or else.

"Mh, I suspected you would want to know, so I brought you this." Choi Yu-Seung was so incredibly calm as she handle the situation. Not an ounce of fear or annoyance in her. She picked up a folder and held it out to Jisung. "This is an exact list of how our credits are distributed and earned. Take a look."

Doubtfully, Jisung took the folder and flipped through pages.

On day 1, he had points deducted because he didn't socialize. Ridiculous.

On day 2, points were deducted because he was late for individual counseling. Understandable.

On day 3, points were deducted because he showed unruly behavior, he refused to be paired and insisted on being with someone specific, with participant Lee Minho. Outrageous. Appalling.

On day 4, he didn't receive any points for 'Gymnastics' because he wasn't allowed to attend. What the hell? For 'painting' he received full points and an extra 5. Oh well…

Jisung looked up, disgust and disbelief clearly visible on his face, as if he had seen the greenest and slimiest blob of snot on the sidewalk.

"Do you think this is fair?" he asked, still relatively calm.

"This is how our system works."

"You said we're not prisoners, and yet you treat us like guinea pigs." There was a little spit forming in the corners of his mouth, a sign that he was forcefully suppressing pent-up rage.

"I understand that you're upset. Take this as a learning experience, so you might be able to go on next week's short vacation."

Jisung scoffed as words failed him, totally perplexed by the absurdity of the whole situation. He carelessly let the folder fall down on the desk and turned around, wanting to leave this place as soon as possible.

"Oh, wait!" Choi Yu-Seung called after him. "I have news regarding your grandmother. Let's sit down tomorrow, yes? Oh, and I think you need these- here."

She handed him a small rectangular package, those were the prescribed pills for his clusterfuck migraine – or however it was called. Until now, he had totally forgotten about it. But now that he had it, he was glad. At least he now knew he wouldn't have to suffer through the next attack.

Jisung entered the cabin, shoes somewhere thrown off to the side, feeling a bit weird. The sudden anger had already subsided. Unsure of what to do with himself, he stood in the middle of the room, ruffling his hair.

"They won't let you go, are they?" Minho sat at the desk, an open notebook in front of him, pen in his left hand.

Jisung walked over and sat down on the other chair beside him. "I might as well could've talked to a wall." He exhaled loudly, then his eyes narrowed. "Why are you still here? Someone like you surely scored 105."

Minho blushed. Cute.

"I have but... going when you can't, it doesn't feel right."

"The hell you're talking about? You're going to this stupid city and you're going to have a great time! Don't think about me, I did this to myself." Jisung was genuinely surprised at this sudden display of self-reflection. "And besides, you still got some paint on your face. Can't let you walk around like that."

Without warning, Jisung grabbed Minho by the collar of his shirt and dragged him into the bathroom.

Drenched in hot water, Jisung carefully dabbed the wet washcloth over Minho's yellow cheek, while holding his face steady with the other hand. Occasionally, their eyes met and Jisung felt a zapping in his stomach. When the paint was completely washed off, Jisung dried Minho's face with a clean towel.

"There, good as new."

Minho turned to inspect himself in the mirror, moving his head from side to side, then nodded with satisfaction. Now that there was a mirror, Jisung noticed his own staring. A bit embarrassed, he positioned himself so that he wouldn't see his reflection.

Jisung stood very close to Minho. So close that he was aware of something. "Hm, what's that funky smell?"

"Huh?"

"It smells like... sweet fruits? Ew." Jisung made a face.

"Oh, that's my lip balm," Minho said, not giving in to Jisung's jabs.

Jisung leaned forward and sniffed near Minho's face. "You're right," he confirmed and slowly his eyes wandered down onto Minho's mouth. Those perfect red lips, smelling like strawberry. Can we kiss...?

"Wanna try?"

"Yeah... huh?"

Realizing what he just said, Jisung's heart threatened to break out of his chest. There was a sudden heat on his cheeks, it almost stung.

Minho was holding a tiny tub. On the lid there was an even tinier picture of a strawberry. "I don't want your nasty fingers in there," he unscrewed the lid, "so I'm going to apply the balm myself."

Minho dipped his index finger into the bright red substance. Then, with his other hand, he held Jisung by the jaw. Jisung held his breath once Minho's finger touched his bottom lip. He shivered inside, his vision was spinning for a second.

Millions of butterflies fluttered in Jisung's belly. Their wings sent electricity through his body, zapping and buzzing. His knees felt weak and he wished, oh how he wished, that it wasn't Minho's finger smearing around, but his lips.

Minho fell into a trance by how Jisung blinked at him with stars in his eyes, glazed and sparkling.

They slowly pulled apart. Both not really wanting to, but neither knew for sure what just happened between them.

"... I should get ready," Minho breathed.

"... Yeah, you get ready."

His hands trembled noticeably as he screwed the lid shut and placed the tub near the sink. He gave Jisung a very timid and shy smile before he walked over to his bed and slipped into something stylish. Black cargo pants, white shirt, and an oversized flannel.

When Jisung stepped out of the bathroom, Minho was ready to leave. "Do you need something? I can get it for you," Minho offered, tying his shoes.

Jisung scratched his head, looking everywhere but not at Minho. "Uh, nah, I'm good, thanks."

"That was a rhetorical question."

Now Jisung looked up. The tension between them had shifted into something that he hadn't experienced before. Not like this, at least, this was different.

"Uh, if you could get your hands on some sushi, that'd be awesome."

"Any particular preference?"

"Nope, all sushi is good sushi. But wait, let me get my-"

"Alright, see ya!"

And with that, Minho left the cabin.

The door closed shut, leaving Jisung standing there.

"-wallet."

#minsung #minsung fic #minsung fanfiction #han jisung #han #lee know #lee minho #skz #stray kids

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feriluce · 1 month ago

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⟪What's Left Of You⟫ Chapter 5-The Crackling Air | Minsung

Felix Jisungaaahhh~ Good news!! The fellow student I mentioned He's gonna take us to the concert!!

Sungie You have no idea how happy I am right now Thank you, Lix Seriously I love you

Felix Aw, love you too How's camp?

Sungie Hell

They texted back and forth, with Jisung whining about being practically in jail, and the crybaby of a cabinmate he's forced to share space with. At least the food was decent. Felix gushed about how much loved his job at The Clubhouse, he was seriously considering making it permanent. Everyone loved him, but that was to be expected.

Jisung already started dreaming about the day he would finally experience his idols- live and in color. Concerts always had that special atmosphere; the air tingled with electricity, hyping up the audience, colors seemed more vibrant, and the music synced in with everyone's heartbeat.

Lazily, Jisung flipped through the pages of the folder, when he abruptly stopped. "The hell am I doing? I don't read."

He chucked the folder down on the floor and stretched out in his bed. The cabin door burst open, Jisung flinched. He didn't bother looking up, but when he heard strained wheezing and sniffling, he sat up to peek through the bookshelves.

On the other bed sat Minho, face buried in his hands, trying to catch his breath. His shoulders moved in a labored way. Carefully, Jisung stepped closer.

"What's wrong with you?" Jisung asked quietly.

Minho looked up, his eyes were red and wet. "You know where we're going soon?"

"You mean... the parkour?"

The relevant page stated that today the camp was going to go on an excursion to a parkour park, to strengthen teamwork and earn credits. Jisung looked forward to it because he had never been to one.

Minho took a deep breath, his hands were shaking. "I'm afraid of heights. I can't just go climb up a tree without having a panic attack."

"If it's so severe, why don't you tell the staff about it?"

"What do you think I've been trying to accomplish since yesterday?" Minho hissed, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes turned into sharp arrows.

Jisung raised his hands in defense, taking a step back. Minho's shoulders slumped, he ruffled his hair and mumbled a small "sorry".

"Listen, if it helps we can do that parkour-teamwork-crap together." Jisung attempted an encouraging smile but it came out a little funny.

Unbeknownst to Jisung, something happened with Minho: It went quiet in his head.

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Nothing reminded of yesterday's rain anymore. Early in the morning the air felt fresh and moist, but by around 9 o'clock the sun's heat was on full blast, heating up the ground and drying the air.

Jisung hopped on the bus and flopped down on the seat by the window, Minho sat down beside him. Soon the bus was packed and loud chatter filled the confined space. The group that had started a campfire on the first day was particularly noisy. Jisung turned around to look back over his seat. There, in the far back, he found the source: A rather short but very buff dude with curly hair spat aggressive verses, some of them even rhymed, making the boy next to him hold his belly with laughter.

The engine came alive with a rumble, causing the loud duo to cheer. But once the doors fell shut, and the train-woman went to stand at the front to face them, everyone instantly went mute. She took her clipboard and called out the names, receiving quick replies. Then she sat down next to her colleague at the front, and the bus started driving.

It was not lost on Jisung that Minho was very fidgety, his hands fumbled with the hem of his shirt, sometimes his leg trembled. Jisung didn't know what to do, he always marveled at how others were easily able to comfort someone.

The trip took an hour. They gathered in front of the entrance to the parkour park. The train-woman decided to split them up in pairs.

"Han Jisung and... Seo Changbin!"

Jisung's stomach pinched. Then he felt Minho standing closer to him, like a scared cat. Cute. What, no-!

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'll go with Minho."

The train-woman's face scrunched up as if she had bitten into a lemon. "Young man, you're not in the position to make decisions."

"This is a non-negotiable," Jisung stated firmly.

The woman glared. "Oh, really? What makes you think so?"

"Uhm, let's see, maybe if you weren't acting like a clogged drain and allowed Minho to stay back as he requested, we wouldn't be having this discussion."

A collective 'ooh' went through the crowd. Jisung's heart was pounding in his chest, already fearing the worst for having zero control over his loose mouth. The woman's colleague, a buff middle-aged man with tattoos all over, raised a finger and whispered something into her ear. She seemed to relax a little. One last glare towards Jisung, then she scribbled something down on her clipboard.

Jisung couldn't give a damn. And Minho couldn't stop smiling.

Tall trees, growing far up into the sky. A dense canopy of green leaves sheltered the area below from the heat. In full gear, Jisung and Minho waited until it was their turn to start climbing up the parkour. Wooden stairs led them to the first platform and up a spiral staircase to the starting point. From there they could choose to either walk over planks with cut out parts, or a narrow bridge with ropes as handrails. Minho trembled pitifully.

"Don't look down, that'll only make it worse," Jisung said reassuringly.

Minho gulped and took a tentative step forward, hands tightly gripping the rope. Obviously he chose the bridge. Jisung stepped right behind him. He tried to do what he promised, to always stay close to Minho.

Halfway through, Minho paused. His breathing turned into wheezes.

"I'm right here," Jisung spoke softly, "one step at a time."

Although they were secured by hooked ropes above their heads, below them was nothing, not even security nets. Minho literally jumped on the platform once he had crossed the bridge. Jisung couldn't help but smile.

"I did it!" Minho cheered.

Jisung high-fived him. "Yeah, man, that's awesome!"

Jisung almost felt like a babysitter for an adult. He wasn't sure if he would've had fun going with someone else though. It was a weird feeling, like two sides of his consciousness were playing Ping Pong in his mind. Seeing how Minho smiled at him with relief after every track, it did something to Jisung.

By the time they were done and climbed down to meet the others, they were greeted with annoyed looks. The buff dude named Seo Changbin had his gaze fixed on Jisung, flexing his muscles. Next to him stood a tall, slim guy, it was the one who cackled at Changbin's jokes in the bus. Muscle-dude whispered something into beanstalk-boy's ear. Then they both looked at Jisung.

Jisung shook his head at the uncomfortable feeling this situation was giving him. Turning around, he sat down next to Minho who, after returning from high up, had immediately planted himself on the ground. The grass was soft. Patches of dark green speckled with the white/pink of daisies.

"Why are they staring at us?" Jisung wondered, leaning back on his hands.

Minho's breathing was still a bit strained as he followed Jisung's eyes. "Probably because they had to wait for us."

Jisung checked the time on his phone. If they were at the camp, they'd all be having lunch by now. Sighing, he put the phone back and gave Minho a clap on his shoulder.

Minho was so glad to be back on solid ground. His stomach grumbled a little. Whether it was because of nerves or hunger, he couldn't tell. He changed his sitting position a bit, trying to get his breathing under control. His mother would be so proud of him for trying to overcome his acrophobia.

When Jisung sat down next him, Minho's nose caught the whiff of something sweet. Sweet like honey, and it came from Jisung. How can someone sweat and smell so nice?

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Led by the two w̶a̶t̶c̶h̶d̶o̶g̶s̶ supervisors, the group of i̶n̶m̶a̶t̶e̶s̶ ̶ participants marched towards the park's resting area. There were benches that visitors could sit and rest on, some were even using them like a bed.

Inside, the place smelled of different kinds of food. A sizzle came from the open kitchen, chefs were yelling orders, waiters rushed from table to table. So much noise. The place was packed, every seat taken. Except for three tables, reservations have been made, thank god. Everyone sat down, and this time no one bothered Jisung for sitting next to Minho.

Jisung enjoyed every bit of the KBBQ. Free food is free food. He placed a lettuce and perilla leaf on his plate, added some rice on top, followed by strips of grilled meat. He sprinkled some sesame seed over it, then wrapped it all up, dunked it into soy sauce, and shoved the whole package into his mouth. He chewed. An explosion of flavor unfolded in his mouth. His eyes closed as he hummed with pleasure. He repeated this act a few more times, when he heard Minho laughing quietly. With his mouth full, he turned to look at him. Their eyes met, and they smiled at each other.

"You look like a hamster," Minho whispered mischievously.

Jisung choked. Minho smirked.

"What?" Jisung gasped after chewing and carefully swallowing the leaf-wrapped meat.

"Your cheeks."

Minho's smile lasted until he was finished with his plate, totally unaware of Jisung's racing heart and blushed cheeks.

After the luscious lunch, the supervisors let them have a thirty minute break, how generous. On the condition to not leave the park, they were otherwise free to roam around.

Right behind the building there were a couple trees with low-hanging branches, casting their shadow on the ground. Under one such tree, leaned against its trunk, sat Jisung and Minho. They remained silent, enjoying the calm.

Jisung felt a subtle sting somewhere behind his left eye but he hoped it would go away, especially since he ate so well. He knew that he hadn't brought his emergency medication to this trip, in fact he left it at home, in the lower drawer of his desk.

"Thank you, Jisung, for... for being here."

Jisung slightly opened his eyes, kinda side-eying Minho. He shrugged. "It's nothing."

"I mean it. Since we didn't have a good start, you being rude and all, I really appreciate your kindness."

Jisung turned his head to have a better look at Minho. There was a quiet tension in this very moment. "Then," Jisung started, withstanding the other's intense gaze, "I think we should properly introduce ourselves."

Jisung extended his hand first. "Hello, I'm Han Jisung, nineteen years old, nice to meet you."

Minho took the other's hand. "Hello, I'm Lee Minho, twenty-one years old, nice to meet you too."

Minho's hand was soft and warm, slightly sweaty, but firm in his grip. It was just a handshake. A simple handshake. But why, why did Jisung's stomach feel so funny. "Can I call you hyung?"

Minho dipped his head. "Sure."

It seemed as if these two could get along. Maybe even become friends. First impressions weren't always accurate, but once you got to know the other more, there was always the chance of a pleasant surprise. Unless your gut feeling told you to get away from someone, then please, listen to it and act accordingly.

The next, and last, activity was to climb up a climbing wall. To spice things up, they had to compete with each other, and there was a price at the end waiting for the winner. The instructor of the climbing area gave them all a thorough briefing in how to handle a climbing wall. Jisung listened attentively, but sucked in a deep breath when the sting behind his eye started pulsating. After being put in the correct gear, the shoes were a bit tight though, he went over to Minho, who was staring up at the wall with wide eyes.

"Doesn't even look that high," Jisung said, placing his arm on Minho's shoulder, "well, you better hurry, 'cause I wanna win that price." Minho turned to look at him in pure terror; eyes wide, face several shades paler, bottom lip trembling. Jisung couldn't help but laugh. "Just kidding."

And with that, Jisung went ahead, waiting for the starting signal. To his left side he observed m̶u̶s̶c̶l̶e̶-̶d̶u̶d̶e̶ Changbin adjusting the harness in his crotch. Suddenly, Changbin looked up and met Jisung's staring gaze. He felt his cheeks getting warm in embarrassment.

He took a deep breath when he heard the male supervisor yell, and started gripping the holds tightly. Jisung did good. Slowly but steadily he pulled himself forward and upward. When his breathing grew heavier, he paused. Forcing himself to not look down, he pressed his head against the wall. His gripping hands started to tremble, and the stinging pain now fully turned into a raging migraine.

"Ha, looks like I'm winning!"

Jisung forced his eyes open, vision already blurry, but from the shape alone he could clearly tell it was Changbin.

"Damn, you look like shit, bro. Better get down before you pass out."

Jisung's eyes fluttered shut. There was a high-pitched ringing in his ears. He felt sick, physically unwell. Don't puke, don't puke, the food was too good. He inhaled several times before slowly reaching for the next hold higher up on the wall. But he missed, his foot slipped. With his vision blurred and a spinning head, Jisung lost orientation. He swayed away from the wall, the ropes were holding him securely up in the air. When his shoes touched the solid ground underneath, his weak legs folded and he collapsed.

Tears were streaming down his face. Writhing and whining in agony and pain, he pressed his hands on his head. In this state Jisung always had trouble perceiving his surroundings. It was all too much. Somehow he managed to groan out that he had a migraine attack but no medication. Someone offered him water but he pushed it away, the thought of drinking made him even more nauseous.

Next thing he knew was that someone was pressing something on his face. He instinctively took a very deep breath. His eyes were scanning the area in a panicked manner, but came to find an old yet friendly looking face.

"This is 100% medicinal oxygen. Keep on breathing, you'll feel better soon," said the man who pressed the mask on Jisung's face.

Jisung did as instructed. Breathe in, breathe out. Over the next couple minutes, Jisung noticed how that awful pain behind his left eye subsided, becoming less and less penetrating.

The man, probably a doctor, removed the oxygen mask. "Feel better now?"

Jisung nodded, absolutely perplexed about the effect. "Yes, wow, thanks, doctor."

The doctor smiled and went over to a desk to sit down in a chair. Now that Jisung felt better, he looked around. He was in a small room, shelves full with books and maps, it looked quite like an office.

"How long have you been having these headaches?"

"Uh... it started this year, in Spring, I guess? I was eating ice cream and got brain freeze."

"Does the pain feel like a tight headband? Or more pulsating in a certain area?"

"It's always somewhere behind my eyes. Like I got stabbed with a hot knife." He paused. "Sometimes I can't even see properly, everything goes blurry."

The doctor tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Sounds like a cluster headache. I recommend you to arrange some testing. You're free to go now, but before you leave," he opened a drawer and took out a small notepad, "here's a prescription for a fast-acting triptan. Once you feel there's something coming, take one pill with a glass of water." He scribbled something down on the notepad, then ripped a page off and handed it to Jisung.

After a couple well-wishes, Jisung was free to go. He stepped out of the office when-

"Jisung!" A very worried looking Minho came to a stop in front of him. "Are you okay? How do you feel?"

Minho placed his hands on Jisung's shoulders, squeezing them lightly and gently rubbing down his arms. This gesture sent shivers down Jisung's spine.

"I-I'm fine, no need to worry. I guess we didn't win the price," he chuckled nervously, "sorry about that."

"Oh forget that stupid price, I'm glad you're not hurt."

Jisung's heart skipped a beat. No one has ever shown him this kind of concern. Well, except Felix, but they've known each other for years. Minho, on the other hand, was still a stranger. A stranger that cared about Jisung's well-being, and not about a missed price. What... what was this feeling that started to grow inside of him?

They got lost in each other's eyes. Soft shades of brown. A warm touch. The blooming of a smile in the corner of their lips. It crackled in the air around them and shimmered like fire.

#minsung #minsung fic #minsung fanfiction #han #han jisung #lee know #lee minho #skz #stray kids

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feriluce · 1 month ago

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⟪What's Left Of You⟫ Chapter 4-The Cabinmate | Minsung

Yesterday had ended with a short meeting where the newcomers got a proper introduction of the staff, the meaning and purpose of this whole camp thing, and a quick tour around the area. The area itself wasn't that big. Rather the layout and wide-spread placement of the buildings made it seem as such. And it was heavily fenced, just like any other correctional facility.

The rest of the day was leisure time. A group of individuals had quickly bonded and by evening they had set up an approved campfire. Usually, Jisung would've used this opportunity to brag with his freestyle-rapping skills. What did prevent him from doing so? Well, after dinner he laid down in his bed to 'rest his eyes for just a bit', only to instantly fall asleep. A bomb could've exploded next to him, Jisung continued to snore, unbothered by anything.

When Jisung woke up, he felt disoriented and confused, his head ached with pain drawing down the back of his neck. The room was dark. The damp fabric of his shirt stuck to his skin. His eyes were crusty and crumbly, opening them did feel a bit unpleasant. Rubbing the corner of his eyes, Jisung slowly sat up. He still wore yesterday's clothes. Looking around, he noticed the empty bookshelves next to him. A light snoring, kind of deep breathing reached his ear. Then he remembered. His cabinmate was Lee Minho. The guy he was supposed to replace for three weeks, but ultimately made a fool of himself in the whole Clubhouse. A disgusting fool, might I add. A wave of sadness washed over Jisung.

5:57am No new messages. 35% Battery

Quickly, Jisung fished out his charger, plugged in his phone, and found his way to the bathroom where he took a much needed hot shower. Nice water pressure, he thought. He took his sweet time. Spinning his head slowly, the circular motions of his hand gave his tensed shoulder muscles a nice massage. He got totally absorbed in the moment. For a while Jisung forgot his current situation. No thoughts of being sent away. Just the hot water, a steamy relaxation. Bliss.

Frantic knocking on the door snapped him back into the waking reality.

"Ya! It's occupied!" Jisung shouted.

"It's been half an hour! I need to pee! Goddammit!" Minho shouted back.

Rolling his eyes, Jisung washed off the shampoo. He roughly rubbed his hair with a towel, then wrapped it around his waist, and exited the bathroom. Jisung was proud of his body. He didn't mind showing it off sometimes, and that boy named Minho surely needed a visual demonstration of who's boss.

But Minho simply shoved Jisung to the side and slammed the door shut. He didn't look, not even glanced in Jisung's direction. With a scoff Jisung continued to get ready for the day.

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The breakfast tasted surprisingly good. White rice with banchan; very tasty side dishes, although the kimchi was a little too spicy, he rarely ate it anyways so that was no loss. Fried eggs, toast, sausages - no way that was normal prison food. Jisung didn't mind though, he shoved down as much as humanly possible. All while ignoring the judgmental stares others gave him.

"Can I sit with you?"

Jisung looked up, his mouth packed with rice. Minho stood in front of Jisung, holding a tray. His black hair was still a bit wet from the rushed shower, single strands were covering his b̶e̶a̶u̶t̶i̶f̶u̶l̶ face.

Jisung gulped down the rice. "Yeah, sure..."

While Minho sat down, Jisung continued chewing, wondering why he had suddenly become so flushed. Should he strike up a conversation? Maybe even apologize to his cabinmate? That would be the decent thing to do, Felix's voice echoed through his mind.

He kept glancing towards Minho, watching him as he mixed kimchi into his rice and ate it without grimacing from the spice. No reaction at all. Except the tips of his ears now started turning red, quickly becoming darker. Unexpectedly, the two made eye contact. Minho smirked, Jisung looked away and down into his empty bowl.

"So glad I made it just in time for breakfast," Minho chatted, "would be a real shame if I had missed out on that delicious breakfast."

Jisung looked up. "I'm sorry... you feel that way."

"Don't apologize for my feelings. Apologize for your actions."

Jisung blinked. Those were some tough words coming out of Minho's mouth, all while keeping a friendly expression on his face. Why must he be so goddamn nice? Jisung knew, he just knew, if the roles were reversed, Jisung would've flipped the table. Or at least flipped the other off. Classical Jisung.

The chatter and clattering inside the canteen suddenly turned into an unbearable auditory hell. Coughing, Jisung stood up to return the tray, and immediately exited the main building.

Grey clouds rolled along the overcast sky, the wind carried a slight freshness. At least the sun didn't burn down on Jisung's skull, it really made thinking easier. Looking around, he noticed a double swing right next to the main building. He hesitated for a bit, but then he thought 'fuck it' and sat down on one swing. The swaying feeling calibrated something inside him. He easily kept his balance as he pulled one leg up to his chest.

With closed eyes, Jisung let the swing sway back and forth. Gently with the breeze. Thoughts carried away like dandelion seeds.

Jisung jerked awake with a pounding heart. He put his leg down and heard something crunch. He had stepped on the red folder, which was tucked into the back pocket of his black skinny jeans, but was now lying on the ground. With a sense of panic, he picked it up and pulled out his phone. 7:59am. Now he really panicked. In less than one minute he was supposed to be having an individual counseling appointment. He started running, almost stumbling over his own clumsy feet.

Panting, Jisung reached the second floor. Vision going black for a moment, he supported himself on his knees. His head went up as he heard someone calling his name.

"Are you Han Jisung?" It was the strict looking woman from the train.

"Yes, I... I'm Han Ji... I apo..."

"You're five minutes late. Come with me."

Jisung didn't have time to bow in shame and utter an apology. The woman simply turned on her heels and started walking along the hallway. Jisung hurried to catch up with her.

Daylight illuminated the very sterile looking space. At the end of the hallway, they stopped and the woman knocked on a white door. A plate next to it revealed a name. Choi Yu-Seung. Social Work. A voice from inside called to enter.

The train-woman left and Jisung stood there, feeling a bit awkward. The whole office was white, pastel colored accents here and there. Plastic flowers. Behind a white desk sat a small woman with glasses, typing away on her white computer.

"Please, have a seat," she said without looking up.

Very awkwardly, Jisung went to the white chair in front of the desk and sat down very close to the edge. The woman typed frantically. Then she abruptly stopped. Her smile was unexpectedly warm when she made eye contact with Jisung.

"Han Jisung, let's talk about your financial situation."

For the following half an hour, Jisung got practically (figuratively speaking) stripped naked. Everything he ever purchased, everything he paid and didn't pay, leading up to this huge amount of debt. It all was stored and backed up there, black on white, in the virtual database. Humiliating.

Choi Yu-Seung also made a darn good assessment of Jisung's psychological state. She assumed that something inside him felt empty, unfulfilled. Something that needed to be filled, rewarded even. Buying stuff gave him an incredible high. But because it only lasted for a very short time, he kept on buying. By the end of her sermon, Jisung's brain was fried.

"It's a lot to take in," she said with an empathetic smile, "but don't worry, we're here to help. I see you'll be having a class in financial education later this afternoon." She looked on the screen, rolled the wheel of her mouse. "A very good class, I'm sure you'll learn a lot. Well, the time is almost over, do you have any questions?"

Jisung leaned back in his chair and massaged his temples. He exhaled, his mind was blank. "No, I... I can't think of- wait, yes, there's something." Jisung leaned forward, trying to get the words out. "Am I really legally here? My grandmother signed me up, because we had a private deal that I failed to keep up. Can she do that?"

Choi Yu-Seung's eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Thoughtfully, she tapped a finger on her chin. "Is your grandmother your legal guardian?" Jisung nodded. "Hm, as long as she is responsible for you, I fear she can do that." Seeing the shocked look on Jisung's face, she quickly added: "But I will look into this more thoroughly, I promise."

"Okay, thank you. I don't have any more questions."

Jisung bowed politely and left the office, feeling drained once he stepped out into the courtyard. As he was making his way back to his cabin, he almost bumped into Minho. Jisung apologized, but Minho didn't seem to have heard him. Mumbling to himself, Minho slung his arms around his torso and hurried in the other direction. Weird, but whatever.

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It turned out, the finance class wasn't that bad. The lecturers were nice and, for a change, Jisung didn't feel like a total loser. In fact, they boosted his confidence, they gave him the silver lining of being able to turn his life around.

A light drizzle speckled the ground in a polkadot-like pattern. The wind picked up, whooshing Jisung's hair out of his face and pushing him forward. Excellent, because he really needed to use the restroom. A full bladder was one of the most annoying things in the world. That, and those red exclamation marks in various video games.

Jisung slipped out of his shoes, tossing them aside carelessly, and entered the cabin. He gripped the handle and ripped the bathroom door open - only to find it locked.

"Fuck!" he yelled.

Uttering some more profanities under his breath, he stepped aside, tripping on his feet with crossed legs, nervously waiting for the door to unlock. Two minutes passed, then five, then seven. He couldn't hold it any longer. It fucking hurt! Desperately and violently, Jisung hammered against the wooden door.

"For fucks sake," Jisung shouted, voice cracking, "open the damn door! I'm about to piss myself!"

He started whining, the pain went up to his kidneys, when finally the door unlocked. Once it opened a centimeter, Jisung immediately pushed past Minho, not bothering to close the door. Pants down and the relief was glorious!

Anyone who has ever been in such a situation, knew what it's like. And how long a minute felt like depended on which side of the door you're standing.

Jisung cleaned himself, pulled his pants back up, and pressed the flush button. He turned to leave the bathroom, but stopped. Just a minute ago when he squeezed past Minho, he had noticed something, but didn't give it much thought since he was in a tough situation.

The look on Minhos face. His red, puffy eyes. Was he crying?

#minsung #minsung fic #minsung fanfiction #han #han jisung #lee know #lee minho #skz #stray kids

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feriluce · 1 month ago

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⟪What's Left Of You⟫ Chapter 3-The Camp | Minsung

The train chugged along the tracks. It did not stop once for the entirety of the 3-hour long ride. Soon Jisung's stomach started to grumble, he hadn't eaten breakfast as he was too busy being loud and obnoxious. Typical angry-Jisung-behavior. Some might even call him bratty.

Thoughts of every possible scenario regarding the camp tormented his mind. Was he now a prisoner? Would he have to give away his personal belongings? A single cell with a tiny barred window? No privacy? Gross food? Knitting?

Jisung nibbled on his nails. His heart raced. A sudden, soft kick to his shin snapped him back to the present. Annoyed, he looked at pretty-face-guy.

Having seemingly read his mind, the guy said: "Cheer up, we're not going to prison. It's still a camp."

"But why the uniform?" Jisung whispered, being too scared to talk normally.

"It's a federal institution, the government finances it, so people like us won't go to jail. We still have rights, you know."

"People like us? The hell you talking about?"

Pretty-face-guy narrowed his eyes at Jisung. "Young adults, first time offenders? Community hours? Ring a bell?"

Jisung stared at him with a flat expression. Was his debt enough to put him into a place like this? He didn't say another word. Instead, he resumed biting his fingernails while looking out the window. Landscapes of hills, trees, and distant mountains rolled by, colors blurred together at the high speed. A cloudless sky and the high noon sun.

The break pads squealed as the train came to a stop. The woman from before announced that everyone was to exit the train in an orderly manner.

Once outside, the sun burned down on Jisung's head, making him feel dizzy. This sucked! Like school children, they all - dozens of young people - marched away from the station. Jisung craned his neck, trying to have a better look over the mass of people. There were two guards at equal distances at the front, in the middle, and at the very end. Their blue jackets reflected the sunlight, making them hard to overlook. One of them now walked near Jisung. He secretly glanced over and sighed in relief when he saw no gun hanging from the belt.

Hardly anyone talked. The asphalt soon turned into a gravel road that led them into a forest. Tall trees, moss-covered rocks, soft rustling of dry leaves in the breeze. The further they went the darker the green of the moss became. The cool air smelled of moist grass. Jisung pressed his bag harder against his chest, seeking some type of comfort.

When they stepped out of the forest, the warm humid air smacked Jisung in the face like a brick. The road ahead started to go slightly uphill towards a massive building. The yellow facade and dark roof made quite the impressive contrast to the light blue sky. Soon Jisung started having trouble keeping his pace. He was sweating like a pig. It was July, that was inevitable. Still, Jisung would rather not.

They entered the vast courtyard. There was the big yellow building in front of them and a bit further back were wooden cabins. They were in the middle of a forest, surrounded by nothing but trees. This double sucked! Drenched in sweat, feeling dazed, Jisung and the others started looking around. The woman from the train stood on a crate and talked into a megaphone.

"I will now call out everyone's name one by one. Once you hear your name, you walk up to me and take such a folder." She held a pile red folders up in the air. "It contains everything you need to know. Further, my colleague will assign you your cabin and cabinmate."

Jisung groaned internally. Soon, he barely paid attention to anything around him. Many times his ears perked up when he thought he had heard his name. Turned out, many shared a similar sounding name. He almost missed his cue when someone nudged him. The woman repeated his name, sharply. Jisung stumbled forward, took the red folder, and quickly left the crowd.

He went to the parking lot and sat down between two cars, needing some shadow and time to think. With shaky hands, he opened his bag and pulled out a water bottle. All that stressing out and walking in the heat had worn him down. Before he emptied the bottle, he pressed it against his forehead. It wasn't cool anymore, but still a noticeable difference in temperature.

"Please no migraine," Jisung groaned under closed eyes.

Next time he opened his eyes again, he found the place in front of him deserted. Only occasionally would a few people walk across the courtyard, Jisung recognized the red folder in their hands. He took his own and opened to the first page. There wasn't even a cover image, just plain text.

Welcome to Camp Chuncheon!

Founded in 1768, a group of judicial officers bought the premises in the middle of Chuncheon's untouched nature. Those individuals believed in -

Jisung skipped the whole paragraph. A lesson in history was the last thing on his overstimulated mind. Well, at least the last sentence stated in bold letters: You are not a prisoner!

Breakfast: 7am - 7:30am Lunch: 12:30pm - 1pm Lunchbreak: 12:30pm - 1:30pm Dinner: 7pm - 8pm Please note that any type of misconduct will have consequences.

Jisung sighed and closed the folder, rubbing his eyes. He had skimmed through the pages, this place really seemed like a regular camp that offered many activities; only downside was that he couldn't walk around freely. The nearest city was a twenty-minute walk away. If he desired to go there, he had to 1) earn the credits for it, and 2) sign out and, upon return, sign back in.

Right now, Jisung had two things that helped him to not give up right now: The first one was the concert of his favorite K-Pop group in a couple days, and the second was the promise of 25% off his debt. A desperate man clings to any carrot, a wise person once said.

His stomach made a loud noise, contracting painfully. Pulling out his phone - 12:07pm - he considered sending his grandmother a not so nice text. Basically, she put him there. End of story. But he didn't. He was a brat, not an asshole.

Jisung stood up, opening the envelope with details about his housing situation. A simple graphic showed the cabins on the grounds. His cabin was pointed out with a giant red dot. He started walking towards it, sometimes crossing paths with other... participants? Convicts? Inmates? Fellow sufferers?

The cabins all looked the same. Grayish, weather worn wood. A few stairs led to the open porch; at this time of day, the roof cast a shadow over the small area. Jisung went up the stairs, the wood creaked with every step. The door creaked just as loud and annoying as it swung open, and revealed a modern looking space.

Jisung entered, letting the door close by itself. The air felt wonderfully cool. Contrary to what he expected, it didn't smell musty in here. There was even an en-suite bathroom, thank god! Jisung would've hated it if he had to walk around outside only to find a crusty loo.

There were two beds on either side of the room; the right one was empty, while there was a backpack on the other bed. Bookshelves that functioned as room dividers at each bed's end gave them some privacy. There also was a wide wardrobe. A desk and two chairs stood in front of the windows. Simple. But it looked really nice. If it wasn't for the fact that Jisung was there as a punishment, he might have actually liked it.

Jisung plopped down on the vacant bed and let out an exhausted sigh. When he heard the noise of a flushing toilet, his eyes shot open and he sat up. His jaw dropped as he saw someone familiar walking out of the bathroom. When their eyes met, Jisung gave him a grim glare, while the other one scoffed.

"What's your name again?" Jisung asked, trying to sound as cool and arrogant as possible.

"Looks like you vomited out part of your memory. But for you I'll repeat myself. The name's Lee Minho."

For once, Jisung was too stunned for a witty comeback. He always thought so highly of himself, full of wit and cleverness.

Looked like he had to step up his game.

#minsung #minsung fic #minsung fanfiction #han #han jisung #lee know #lee minho #skz #stray kids

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feriluce · 1 month ago

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⟪What's Left Of You⟫ Chapter 2-The Punishment| Minsung

The afternoon went by unusually fast. Jisung had a light lunch, watched a couple episodes of his favorite TV show, and dozed off. It was more a superficial slumber where even the sneeze of a mouse could snap him back awake.

He checked his phone. Felix had sent a message- he got the job, of course. Jisung smiled and replied with a thumbs up. And it was almost time for visiting his grandmother. Well, 'visit' didn't quite fit. It was more of a meeting, where they exchanged pleasantries; Jisung would tell her how happy he was, and that, yes, he was doing his very best to fulfill his end of the deal. His grandmother would then talk about stock markets and climate change. The usual.

On top of that, they lived together in a giant house. Jisung only needed to walk down the stairs and navigate through this maze of hallways and doors.

Jisung stretched and when he caught a whiff of his own body odor, he almost gagged. Before he hopped into the shower, he went to his closet and prepared a nice outfit. When he pulled out a t-shirt, his lips turned into a fond smile. A baby-blue polo shirt with a nudist banana print in the front (appropriately censored, of course). His grandmother always said that blue made Jisung look cute. He knew it would soften her heart.

And so, the baby-blue banana shirt it was.

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

Jisung smoothed out his suit jacket as he stood in front of the mirror in the hallway. Anytime he met up with his grandmother, he made sure to look presentable. Dress pants and clean shoes, slicked back hair and a cologne that would make anyone turn their head. He licked the tip of his pinkie finger and slid it over his eyebrow. What a dapper young man!

In his excitement, Jisung hopped onto the railing and slid all the way down, earning an annoyed look from one of the house staff. He smirked and clicked his tongue.

The closer he got to the dining room, the stronger the smell of food in the air became. The mental image of a medium rare steak made Jisung's mouth water.

When he entered the spacious dining room, he spotted his grandmother already sitting at the table. Holding a newspaper in one hand, her other hand kept pushing the glasses back up her nose. Crescent-shaped glasses, golden frame.

"Grandma, good evening," Jisung sang happily.

His grandmother, Chae-Won, looked up and smiled. "Good evening, come here, boy." She stood up, arms open. "Ah, let me look at you. Lovely as ever. But... my dear, that banana?"

"I can go change, if you want," Jisung said quietly, suddenly feeling like he did something wrong.

Chae-Won chuckled and gestured for him to take a seat. The table was long enough to easily accommodate eight people, but today only two sets of tableware was needed. Before Jisung sat down he gave his grandmother a little present - her favorite chocolates - which she accepted with a smile, after refusing twice.

As soon as Jisung's butt touched the chair, two staff people emerged from the adjacent room and started serving the food.

After devouring a delicious seaweed soup, Jisung could hardly contain his joy as he dug into the tender meat of the steak. This was pure heaven. The fork squeaked over the plate, causing an uncomfortable ache in Jisung's ear. While he chewed on his potatoes - mouth full, cheeks puffed up like a hamster - he looked over to his grandmother. She sat on the short side of the table. His smile faded a bit when he noticed how little she was eating.

"Is it too bland?" he asked, trying to sound not too worried.

"Oh, my dear child, let an old woman enjoy her meal, yes?"

She dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin and took a sip of the red wine. She acted like everything was fine but Jisung couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen. One thing he disliked the most was worrying about his grandmother. And spicy food.

The dinner went on in silence, the clattering of silverware being the only background noise. After he took the last bite of his meal, he placed the knife and fork neatly on the plate. The staff immediately came and cleared the table.

Jisung sat awkwardly on this seat, watching one of the staff lighting a scented candle and placing it in the middle of the table, while his grandmother stood up and turned to the dresser behind her. She pulled on a golden ring-shaped handle, opening the drawer. With a sigh, she lifted a big, heavy looking black map. Tightly clutched to her chest, she returned to her seat and placed the map in front of her on the table.

Chae-Won used to be a businesswoman. With her sharp mind, pleasant personality, and carefully crafted words, she had quickly climbed up the ladder in the real estate world. No one could hold a candle to Chae-Won.

Jisung owed her a lot. His mother was Chae-Won's daughter. When he was ten years old, his mother died due to complications of a viral infection. His world was shattered. Trying to seek comfort from his father who was heartbroken and couldn't process this tragedy, Jisung soon 'toughened up'. Even more so after his father moved to Japan, two years later, leaving Jisung behind in Seoul, alone and sad. Chae-Won legally adopted Jisung. All this happened nine years ago.

"Jisung, my dear, you know that I love and care about you immensely."

He nodded. "But?"

"No but. I wanted to tell you this before we start discussing something very important."

She looked at him with a warm smile and attentive eyes, like she always did. There had never been a moment where Jisung doubted her mental clarity. "How have you been lately?"

An open-ended question. A trap. And Jisung marched straight into it. "Good," he said weakly. "I mean, there have been ups and downs, because, you know, life."

He started fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He would much rather be somewhere else right now. This felt like an intervention, it seemed to have come out of nowhere. Have there been any signs he missed?

There were a couple of silent seconds passing by. Jisung waited for his grandmother to speak, but she just kept looking at him affectionately.

Jisung simply crumbled under Chae-Won's loving gaze. Tears started to well up in his eyes, hating how honest his words came out. "It's, uh, it's been a rough couple of months. I'm...," a puff of air escaped his lungs, "kinda lost."

Chae-Won opened the map to reveal important looking documents. She held up a sheet of paper, reading silently. Then she spoke. "You've always been a very good student, Jisung. High credit score, active in many projects, liked by teachers and students alike."

"That's what's expected of me, though."

"I never forced you to do anything you didn't like."

"I know, I'm sorry." Jisung lowered his head in shame.

Chae-Won put the paper upside down and picked up another one. Looking closer, Jisung recognized the giant red stamp in the top right corner. His heartbeat gained speed.

Chae-Won pushed her glasses back up her nose. "It's been a year since we set up this contract. Remind me, please, what was the reason we had to do this?"

"I... I failed to pay my credit card billing and... and..." Jisung stuttered terribly, his mind went blank.

Chae-Won cleared her throat. "We set up this contract to ensure you're taking it seriously. I promised to pay off a large portion of it, under the conditions of you continuing sports science, and working a part-time job."

"I've been job hunting!"

"Have you succeeded?"

Jisung squirmed on the inside. He hated being reminded of having failed in every aspect of life. He shook his head and buried his face in his hands. His cheeks burned red with shame, and a foreboding sense of impending doom in his guts.

Chae-Won put the paper back into the map, then turned some more pages.

Jisung feared what would happen next. There must be consequences. But for the life of him, he couldn't remember. A year is a long time after all.

Chae-Won fetched out a paper and handed it over to Jisung. "I already signed you up for summer camp in Chuncheon."

Jisung blinked rapidly. "What?"

There was still a caring sparkle in his grandmother's eyes, but now with a resolute addition. "It starts the following Monday and will last three weeks. They offer quite a lot of activities, I'm sure they'll enrich your life. While you're there I expect you to participate and-"

Jisung interrupted her. "How long did you say?"

"Three weeks."

"But... but then I'll miss the concert."

"Consider this as your punishment."

"I'm nineteen, you can't do this to me!"

Jisung started to shake and sweat profusely. He had been looking forward for this concert. One of his favorite k-pop groups had a comeback after years of silence, and now he was about to miss this once-in-a-lifetime event. The universe must hate him.

"Jisung, I'm still giving you an easy way out. You can either go to this camp and I'll have twenty-five percent taken off of your debt. Or you stay home and try to manage on your own."

Jisung grabbed a fistful of his hair and groaned in frustration. He stood up, knocking over the chair unintentionally. "Fine, have it your way."

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

Jisung thought very highly of himself. At the ripe age of twelve years, he discovered Hip-Hop music. The beat seemed to have reached something deep inside him, because he soon found a way to channel all his pent-up anger into something productive. As the years came and went, he learned to slam words, instead of his fist, at people. Carefully crafted rap verses, meant to hurt and confuse. Mostly confuse, because of course people were too slow to catch his drift.

Shortly after his thirteenth birthday, he became obsessed with dancing. If only his grandmother had been a little bit cooler back then, Jisung would be studying practical dance or the fine arts, but after endless conversations, Jisung had agreed for a sports degree (sports and dance have many things in common, right?). The reason for his obsession with dance was because of that one K-Pop group called 'Homeless Children' - or short: HoChi. After only being active for three years, they disbanded unexpectedly. And now that they were about to have a huge comeback, Jisung was forced to spend his summer in a lousy camp.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Felix's eyes widened in shock after receiving the news from his best friend. He looked up from his magazine with his mouth hanging open.

Jisung sighed. "I wish I was." He let himself slump down on the bed next to Felix.

"You gotta do something, man, you can't miss this."

Jisung whined and rolled over on his side. "Why do I have to do something? Can't you just, I don't know, show up at there and pick me up?"

"That's-" Felix interrupted himself, his eyes wandered slightly to the top left.

A small spark of hope flickered up, but as soon as he remembered that Felix didn't have his license yet, that spark evaporated immediately. He told Felix that.

"I think... I might know someone," Felix said, pulling Jisung's arm away from his face and smiling brightly down at his best friend. "I know a guy from my class who's just as much into K-Pop as we are."

Jisung sat up, heart beating faster in excitement. "For real?"

"Yeah, I mean, I might have to do some convincing, but it should be fine."

"Yo, Felix, you're the best!"

Jisung could hardly contain his excitement as he slung his arms around Felix's shoulders. They both laughed happily, even after they tumbled down onto the carpeted floor.

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

Way too early in the morning, Jisung made everyone know that he did not like this situation. The day of the departure has come. He stomped his way to the bathroom, where he let the water surge down on the highest pressure, banged every door and drawer loudly shut, and slammed various products back on the shelf. He couldn't change the situation, but that didn't mean he had to stay silent about it.

Jisung shouldered his travel bag and made his way downstairs. Right next to the open entrance door, the driver was already awaiting him.

"Good morning, young master," he greeted in a very polite tone of voice.

"Morning," Jisung grumbled, stomping right past him.

He slammed the car door shut. Buckling up, he looked out the window, hoping to find his grandmother waving him goodbye. But she wasn't. That stung.

Ruffling his hair, he returned to hating everything about this situation. A mental image formed in his mind; an image of how he would use this built-up anger to endure the next ten days until Felix would pick him up.

The driver navigated the car through the morning traffic, taking several turns. Confused, Jisung pressed a button, connecting directly to the driver. "Shouldn't we have left the city by now?"

The line crackled before the driver responded. "I'm letting you out at the station. There will be a train waiting that brings you directly to the camp."

Jisung leaned back with a huff. Of course, being sent away wasn't punishment enough, he also had to suffer while going there.

It's been a while since Jisung was last happy. Artistic self-expression and good friends could only do so much. He longed for something deeper. Something more meaningful than a one-night-stand with someone from his class. The high was intense but, unfortunately, fleeting. He got tired of chasing. And thus, his love life had rendered itself non-existent.

At the station, the chauffeur accompanied Jisung to the platform. The train was already there. It looked different from the rest; most were painted in red, white, blue - South Korea's national colors. But this one was completely black, silver letters spelled the name of the camp and the place. Nothing else. It gave off a sinister vibe. Jisung shuddered.

"You sure this is the right one?" Jisung mumbled, walking slower.

The chauffeur pulled out a little notebook, flipped some pages, nodded, then put it back into his pocket. "Everything is as it should be," he said, leaving no room for discussion.

They stopped near the entrance door. Jisung felt a lump forming in his throat.

"Young master, I wish you a pleasant experience, and... good luck."

Something shifted in the chauffeur's face. For a brief moment he looked concerned, worried. Or... guilty? He gave a tensed smile, a fatherly clap on Jisung's shoulder, then turned around and Jisung could only watch as he walked away.

"Han Jisung?"

Jisung flinched when he heard a voice behind him. Turning around, he saw a plump middle-aged woman in a suit. There was a lanyard around her neck, and a clipboard tucked under her arm.

"Yes, that's me."

"Well, do you need an extra invitation? Get in."

Hastily, Jisung grabbed the handle and pulled himself up into the carriage. With his bag tightly clutched to his chest, he made his way further inside, following the woman who smelled like menthol cigarettes.

"Your seat," she said in a bossy tone.

He almost crashed into her, but he quickly sat down to where she pointed her finger at. She scrutinized him with dark eyes, then crossed out something on the clipboard, and immediately walked away.

Jisung sucked in a shaky breath. The presence of this woman seemed to have drained all the air around him. He leaned back in his seat, eyes started wandering out the window, only to return back inside and then met the eyes of the one sitting opposite him. No, it couldn't be. Sharp jawline, intense eyes on a pretty face.

The other narrowed his eyes slightly. "Aren't you the guy who puk-"

"Shut the fuck up," Jisung hissed.

The guy - what was his name again? - looked at him with eyebrows raised in surprise. Then he scoffed and turned his gaze out of the window.

With a loud rumble the train came alive, ending the occasional chatter of the full compartment instantly. The woman from before reappeared. She stood between the door to the other compartment. She opened a drawer and pulled out a hat and a jacket. When she turned around, Jisung gasped. The golden bird emblazoned on the hat was unmistakable. Jisung jumped up, which gained the woman's attention immediately.

"I think I took the wrong train!" Jisung uttered shakily.

"Your name?"

"Han Jisung."

The woman looked down on her clipboard. "You're on the list. Now sit down."

"But-"

"Have you been told you're going to summer camp?" Jisung nodded. "Then you are where you're supposed to be. Now, sit down."

The strictness in the woman's face made Jisung drop back down onto his seat. The lump in his throat grew bigger, his heart raced, and cold sweat turned his hands clammy. This surely must have been a mistake, someone confused him with someone else. This was a train from the law enforcement. Why would they title it as 'summer camp'? When hearing 'summer camp', it is supposed to release feelings of joy and excitement. The law enforcement does not do that!

Jisung leaned his forehead against the cool windowpane. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he caught the gaze of the one sitting opposite him. The dude with the pretty face looked at him with so much pity, Jisung almost vomited. Again. "The fuck you lookin' at," he spat angrily.

#minsung #minsung fanfiction #minsung fic #stray kids #skz #han #han jisung #lee know #lee minho

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feriluce · 1 month ago

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⟪What's Left Of You⟫ | Chapter 1-The Incident | Minsung

Summary: Jisung is in debt and gets sent to summer camp. He hates it here, for more than one reason. He tries to flee, but fate seems to have other plans for him.

Warnings: *someone's gonna die. *mild smut. *headaches & migraines.

This story has 15 chapters! I'm going to release them one by one.

It was 10am, and Han Jisung felt like vomited forth upon the world.

"~We've all been in this situation, haven't we? Waking up, your face hurts for whatever reason, somehow you're covered in blood, and you don't know where home is, or where you are~"

Jisung frowned at the strange announcement coming from the radio. He might have misheard, considering the fact he wasn't in great shape, and moving his neck ever so slightly sent a pulsating wave of pain through his head. Groaning, he gave his stiff neck muscles a quick massage, but that did little to help ease the ache. He moved his hand to cover his eyes, blocking out the garish sunlight filtering through the squeaky clean windows. The table he was leaning on wobbled slightly.

Last night's nightmare was still stuck in his bones, the vivid images were haunting his mind. His face hurt from all the tension, another reason why he was sweating so much, he could feel beads of sweat dripping down his back.

Of all the days this could happen, it had to happen today. Right before a job interview.

Who in the hell does job interviews at this ungodly hour?

"Ah, Mister Han, I apologize for making you wait so long."

Jisung looked up when he heard a soft female voice calling his name. He stood up and bowed politely, despite the splitting headache. It was getting worse by the second. "It's nothing, no need to apologize to me," Jisung reassured and sat back down, looking all professional.

The woman took the chair opposite him and placed a folder in front of her. Her short hair was combed back, it made her slender eyes pop out distinctively. Jisung couldn't remember her name, but he knew she was the CEO of this establishment, The Clubhouse. A place where people of all social hierarchies could meet and interact. They regularly organized many different events, and since this place was well visited, work was piling up.

The CEO – and hopefully soon Jisung's boss – took a pen and clicked it two times.

The clicking penetrated Jisung's ear drums. He tried to remain calm.

"Would you like to have a cool drink? It's on the house."

Jisung waved off. "Oh, no, I'm good, thank you."

The woman opened the folder to take a look at the pages. Those were his application documents he had sent via e-mail. "I see you're studying at the local university. What's your major?" She leaned slightly forward and gave Jisung a sharp look.

"Sports science, ma'am. I want to become a sports coach, and recently I finished my first year. People always told me I have a good kinaesthetic sense, and I'd like to improve on that... on my skills."

He tried to give a confident yet relaxed impression. But let's be honest, he sounded like a constipated moose.

"Interesting. My son studies there too. He's about to start his final year, and I know how stressful uni life can be, so we decided he takes a good long vacation first."

Jisung nodded politely. Then he remembered the ad for this position; they were looking for someone as a temporary replacement, ideal for students, high pay. Jisung did the math. If he powered through those three weeks, he would be able to pay off a large chunk of his credit card debt. Organizing files, doing some clean up – how hard could that be.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a young and strikingly beautiful man appeared. He placed a tall glass of what looked like a Frappuccino in front of the CEO. Light brown liquid, topped of with whipped cream, roasted nuts, and drizzles of chocolate sauce.

"Ah, thank you, my dear," she said, taking a sip. "This is my son, Lee Minho, who you are going to step in for."

"Nice to meet you," Jisung greeted and gave a light nod. Minho did the same.

Jisung's eyes flitted between Lee Minho and his mother. They looked so much alike, it was uncanny. Copy pasted, literally. That intense gaze this Minho-boy had, but a smile that could light up an entire room. His light-yellow button-up shirt seemed to illuminate his face, making him look straight out of a commercial for breakfast food. For a moment, Jisung forgot the headache, totally enraptured by the man's beauty.

"Much success with the interview," Minho said smiling, "you look like someone I could get along with." He turned around and walked away, leaving Jisung a bit baffled at the unprompted compliment.

The CEO turned her attention back to the folder and flipped a page, reading silently. They both sat in a far corner of the open place, partially hidden by a room divider that was overgrown with plants. There was a constant ringing when people entered and left, it made Jisung feel even more on edge. Like he was in a coffee shop. Jisung disliked coffee shops.

"Why do you want to work here?" the CEO suddenly asked, looking up again with that weird stare.

"Because I need the money?"

He spoke without thinking, something he does quite often, but never in front of people of higher status. There was a dull pressure growing inside his stomach, the smell of the Frappuccino made him feel nauseous. He leaned forward on the table and grabbed a fistful of his hair while taking deep breaths.

"Are you not feeling well?"

"I'm fine... I just need to…" Drool started to gather in the corner of his mouth.

"You look a little pale."

"I said I'm-"

Then it happened. The worst. The dull pressure ruptured, Jisung retched, and emptied the content of his stomach all over the table, over the chair, all the way down. It splattered across the tiled floor. Chunks of half-digested breakfast. And the smell, oh god the smell. It was a mess. Jisung himself was a mess. In a desperate attempt of damage control, he stood up, hoping to find the bathroom. His blurry vision started to spin like a carousel. He moved one foot, then he dry-heaved, slipped and landed on his back.

Jisung's vision turned black for a moment. Groaning, he covered his eyes- partially in pain, but mostly because of hot burning shame. As he laid there, he prayed the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

"Oh. My. God."

"Ew."

"That poor boy."

"LOL!"

"I'm infected, get me outta here!"

Jisung's eyes flew open. The failed attempts of suppressed laughter and the comments of the people got to his brain. Without looking, he hurriedly stood up and bolted out of The Clubhouse.

He definitely made a lasting impression. Too bad it happened in such an embarrassing, unhireable way.

Outside, Jisung speed walked down the road. When he thought the distance was far enough, he sat down on a bench. Sweat dripped down his temples. The nauseating feeling was gone, but the headache had turned into a full-blown migraine. Flaring shapes and colors danced around the corner of his eyes. He couldn't move. With shaky fingers he pulled out his phone and somehow managed to call the most recent name on the list.

Jisung wasn't aware of many things. He was too busy trying not to pass out from the pain. What he did hear was his best friend's deep and soothing voice. Strong arms lifted him up while tears were streaming down his face. He got moved around quite a lot, until it ceased. There was darkness around him. Wrapped in soft, cool darkness, Jisung soon drifted off to sleep.

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

Jisung's eyes fluttered open. He slowly rolled over onto his back. Feeling something on his forehead, he reached up and pulled a moist cloth away. The migraine must've been severe, for Jisung couldn't remember how he got into his bed. At least he felt no more pain, in fact, he felt great. Exhausted, but great nonetheless.

The room lay in a half-darkness. There was a small gap where the curtain wasn't fully closed, letting in a small ray of sunlight. Exhaling, he sat up. He felt something move at his feet. He poked it with one foot- the thing gasped.

"Hey!"

"Felix?"

Jisung hopped from the bed to push the curtains aside. Indeed, Felix was lying rolled up on the foot end of Jisung's bed. His blond hair was a bit messy.

"Felix, what are you doing here?"

"Making sure you don't die. You're welcome."

Jisung recalled the embarrassing moment in The Clubhouse. Maybe dying wasn't that bad of an idea. Oh well, luckily this wasn't an important place like a grocery store that sold his favorite brand of ramen. Soon, no one would remember him or the incident.

He sat back down on the bed next to Felix, slumping an arm around his shoulder. "Thanks, man."

They sat there for a while, Felix rubbing Jisung's back, enjoying each other's comforting company. Felix had been Jisung's best friend since elementary school. They knew each other too damn well. Inseparable over the years, they even attended the same university. Whatever life would throw at them, they always had each other's back.

Felix stood up first to carry away the damp cloth and a small bucket filled with water. Jisung went over to the mini fridge he had in his room and grabbed an ice-cold bottle of water, chugging down half of it in one go.

When Felix returned, he had a serious look on his face.

"What's up?" Jisung asked.

"Uh, I just got a call from that clubhouse you've been to." Felix scratched his head, running a nervous hand through his hair. "They said, of all the applicants, I was their first choice."

Jisung raised a surprised eyebrow. "They hired you already?"

"Not yet. They want me there at three. For signing the contract, I guess."

Jisung checked the time on his phone, 12:57pm. "Then you better get going, take a shower, brush your teeth."

Felix grimaced. "Yes, mom."

Jisung was genuinely happy for his best friend. He simply had that certain something that pulled everyone into his charm. A friendly face. Perfect for social work. Or customer service. Of course he, too, applied at The Clubhouse. Many students did.

At the same time, Jisung slightly panicked. This job would've been the solution for his biggest problem.

And now he dreaded the upcoming dinner with his grandmother later that evening.

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feriluce · 1 month ago

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⟪I'll be your eyes⟫ | a Minsung fanfiction

Summary: Minho, a demon on parole, is forced to take care of a disabled human.

Warnings: * smut. * blindness. * eye trauma (not graphic, only the effects are shown in a nightmare and taking care of the wound).

Wordcount: approx. 8,8k

In the distance, the jagged Midnight Mountains stretched like fangs, their peaks shrouded in smoke and gusts of wind sweeping across the barren landscape. The dull sun was high but offered no warmth. A V of black birds flew across the rust-brown sky, followed by Minho's longing eyes.

Behind him, the door opened quietly and fell shut just as quietly. Minho didn't turn around; that shuffling gait was now as familiar to him as his right hand.

"Ah, Minho, good news!" said the parole officer, coming to stand next to Minho at the window. "I was able to arrange for them to let you out under lenient circumstances."

Minho's eyebrows furrowed and he looked from the sky to the man next to him. "By 'arrange' you mean 'bribe', am I right?" He snorted in disappointment. "How many times have I told you that I don't want special treatment? Far too many times."

Shaking his head, Minho turned away and sat on the narrow bench next to the door that led directly into the courtroom. He barely listened as the parole officer blabbed his ear off.

A few minutes later, Minho tried not to let his anger show as he entered the courtroom. His head bowed in modesty, his footsteps echoing off the cold, white marble walls.

Someone else's mistake had put Minho in this situation. Benevolent by nature, he believed his superior's orders and when things got tough, Minho was the ideal scapegoat. It took a year until the real culprit (Minho's superior, who would have thought) was found, the truth came to light but the damage had already been done. Minho's reputation in the underworld had suffered a huge dent. Now he hoped that the 'special treatment' of his parole officer would not interfere with his early release from prison.

The judge asked Minho a few questions, praised his exemplary behavior during his imprisonment and offered him a unique opportunity to clear his name. His heart sank a little, but he accepted nonetheless.

In an hour he had to report to portal 143e8. Minho swallowed. This portal connected the underworld with the mortal world.

Better than scraping innards off rocks or working as a stable boy in the eighth circle of hell.

An hour passed quicker than he would have liked. He fidgeted in front of the portal, checked his appearance in the reflection of a pool of blood, scratched his neck. Five minutes passed and the parole officer was nowhere to be seen. For a brief moment, he was filled with the icy dread that his parole had been revoked and Minho would have to go back and shovel shit.

Minho's mood returned to normal when the aforementioned parole officer came to a halt in front of him, panting. Punctuality was not one of his strengths and Minho despised him for it.

"Just in time," he huffed, rummaging around in his battered briefcase. "The portal is only open for ten minutes and a new application can take months."

Anger flashed through Minho's fists. Concentrated smoke narrowly missed the parole officer's cheek. He gasped in shock and Minho grinned sardonically in satisfaction.

One last suspicious glance to the side and the stocky man, who was always late, slammed a polished stone into the frame. The portal roared to life. A swirl of shadows and distorted light separated two worlds that couldn't be more different.

"One more thing." The parole officer fished a black folder out of his briefcase and pressed it into Minho's hand; it was unexpectedly heavy. "Here you'll find everything you need to know. There was something else I wanted to tell you..." He put his hands on his hips, thinking. Seconds passed.

Minho rolled his eyes in annoyance and climbed into the portal; he didn't have time for that anymore. The next moment, the surroundings changed. The change happened so abruptly that Minho needed a moment until the ground stopped shaking and his eyes had adjusted to the changed lighting conditions.

The world of humans. Loud, bright, chaotic.

Minho grimaced as he looked around. The portal had transported him into the middle of a side alley that served as a garbage dump. He opened the folder. In large letters on the first page it said to report to the reception of the local hospital. He stepped out of the portal and as he stood with both feet on earthly ground, a sharp, burning pain shot through his left arm. Minho hissed and pushed up his sleeve. Black lines snaked around his wrist and burned deep into his skin. Silver words shimmered briefly - a banishing spell, a tracking spell.

𓆩𓄋𓆪

The human world was not unknown to Minho. Before he was imprisoned, he had a job that often sent him on business trips around the globe. After all these years, he still preferred the underworld, where he knew every corner and didn't have to hide his horns. He was lonely, but at least there he was allowed to be who he was.

Minho took two steps at a time up to the reception, where he politely introduced himself and waited for someone to pick him up. He ignored the anxious, curious looks of the people. A friendly nurse with bouncing curls of hair accompanied him to the third floor of a department whose name Minho didn't bother to remember. Here the light was brighter, the background noise quieter, and the typical sharp hospital smell less intense. The air felt different. Warmer. The nurse knocked on a door and entered the room behind it, Minho followed her. It was a normal hospital room. A person, male, was crouched on an armchair and stared motionlessly out the window. The closer Minho got to him, the warmer the air seemed to become.

"I brought you someone," said the nurse and the boy turned his head.

"Someone from the agency?" he whispered.

"Jisung, this is Minho. He's from the agency and will be supporting you from now on. Minho, this is Jisung, your protégé." She said goodbye and left Minho standing there, probably assuming that he knew everything anyway.

Agency? Since when do underworlders and humans work together?

The thought of running away was fleeting, barely tangible. And yet his wrist burned sharply, reminding him of his situation.

Jisung's voice was gentle and cautious. "Are you still there?"

Minho pushed his thoughts aside and as he looked more closely at the boy, he unconsciously took a step back. A thick, white bandage was stuck over Jisung's right eye. His left eye was dull and a long, jagged scar ran across it.

Jisung was blind. And Minho had been sent to be his eyes.

"Yes, I'm here, sorry." Minho was glad he could keep his voice steady. "Nice to meet you, Jisung."

Jisung managed a small smile (the air warmed up a little more), he tried to get up, but he didn't seem to have enough strength to do so. He cleared his throat and held out his hand to Minho. "The pleasure is all mine."

When their hands touched, something in Minho's chest jumped to life. Pulsating warmth spread through his body. For the first time in ages, he was very aware of his pounding heart.

Strange.

"I've already packed. We can leave right now, if- if that's okay?"

Minho nodded. And realized that Jisung couldn't see. "Let's go. Do you want to link arms?"

"Please."

Minho was careful not to walk too fast. Being human was bad enough, and being blind was a punishment.

The first hurdle revealed itself when Minho stopped in the parking lot outside the hospital, not even knowing where Jisung lived or how they both would get there.

"Did you forget where you parked your car?" Jisung quipped quietly.

Minho panicked slightly, and at the same time he wanted to respond quickly, when he remembered the folder. Luckily he found answers on page two (and a few extras like house keys and cash, which explained the folder's weight), and a short while later they sat both in a taxi.

Minho studied the contents of the folder the whole way. He wasn't usually this unprepared and as a relatively socially engaged demon he was ashamed that others had to suffer because of his negligence.

Jisung's voice reached Minho's ear softly. "Anything interesting in there?"

"Yeah, I'm reading that I'm being provided with a room?" Minho held the folder out to the human to show him, and he could slap himself.

Jisung is blind, you idiot.

"I wanted someone to be close to me, just to be safe. There's no cost to you, I was able to arrange that with your agency. My apartment is big, so we won't be constantly running into each other when you need time alone." Jisung's smile sank a little. "Not that I've been out much lately, so..."

"That's very generous of you. Thank you, Jisung."

Jisung pressed his lips together in a tight smile and turned his head away. If he could see, he would look out the window now. Minho felt a tug in his chest.

The rest of the drive was silent. When they arrived at their destination, Minho wanted to tip the driver, but he waved him off and drove away way too fast and with screeching tires.

Jisung lived on the top floor, high above the clouds. Minho helped him unpack, they discussed a few details while they ate dinner, and later Jisung retired to his room.

Minho stood in the huge living room, fairy lights adorned shelves full of framed pictures and souvenirs from different countries. An antique wall clock ticked down the seconds. Minho sighed and collapsed onto the sofa. Would Minho manage to settle in quickly, remember where to find everything, and how to use an induction stove properly?

What did he know about Jisung so far?

Jisung was blind, obviously. He had an eye surgery, but the folder didn't give much information about it. Most of all, he needed help changing his bandages twice a day, and as long as he had zero vision, he needed Minho to be able to cope with his daily life.

Minho shivered. On the way to his room, he passed Jisung's room - and Minho stopped dead in his tracks. Here, right in front of Jisung's room door, the air felt so much warmer and more pleasant.

Minho's whole body vibrated with the desire, the need to open the door, to go into Jisung's room to... To do what?

Strange.

𓆩𓄋𓆪

Walking the earthly realm as a demon brought some peculiarities with it. Minho found rest in sleep and pleasure in food (especially sweets), biologically speaking, he was almost like a human. Fortunately, his supernatural abilities, which clearly identified him as a fourth-rank demon, had not been taken away from him, but 'only' limited.

Minho took two eggs from the fridge, closed the door and when he turned around, he automatically turned into smoke and appeared behind Jisung.

"Minho?"

Minho took a deep breath, hearing Jisung say his name felt... different. Different than yesterday. "You're up early."

Jisung turned around slowly. The bandage was on his right eye, but his left eye darted around searchingly. "I... I thought I heard you at the fridge? I guess I was wrong."

"I nearly bumped into you, glad I dodged in time." Minho laughed slightly. "You walk on cat's paws."

Jisung's mouth formed a small smile and Minho caught himself lingering on it for a second too long. He put the eggs aside and led Jisung to the seating area, where he sat him down.

"How did you sleep?" Minho asked as he went back to preparing breakfast. He had a good view on the human; in contrast to the rest of the apartment, the kitchen was rather small, cozy.

"Like a stone, the anesthesia always has a longer effect on me. How was your first night here? Is everything to your satisfaction? If you need anything, tell me and I will... well, you would have to take care of it because I, um, can't see anything, but I will reimburse you and..."

Jisung sighed and his torrent of words died down, dipping his head low.

Minho grinned amusedly. With a sharp knife he cut thin slices of bacon. "It's all fine, I don't need anything. But thanks for the offer. And I slept very well, this is the best bed I've ever slept on." His grin widened when he noticed a hint of pale pink on Jisung's cheeks.

It was quiet for a while. Bacon and eggs sizzled in the pan, the sour freshness of orange juice cut through savory roasted aromas and filled the air. Dishes clattered and Minho assured the human twice that he didn't have to worry about being 'useless'. The folder gave clear instructions about what Minho had to do, including cooking if the situation required it.

"This tastes heavenly," Jisung raved at the first bite of crispy bacon.

Minho sat opposite him and fiddled with his knife and fork. The word 'heavenly' elicited a quiet snort from him. "No one has ever described my food as heavenly."

"Exquisite? Delectable? A culinary delight?"

Minho blinked. He caught Jisung's gaze and for a moment it seemed as if they had direct, real eye contact, as if he could clearly see the demon in front of him. But that couldn't be. Still... There was something about this human that made Minho's heart flutter.

Strange, but not unwelcome.

𓆩𓄋𓆪

A week had passed and the unlikely pair had gotten through the first phase of getting to know each other well. At least that's how it felt to Minho. A certain routine had set in and Minho had to admit that he felt comfortable. Jisung was pleasant company, sometimes he chattered too much, but that only made him more lovable.

Pale light from the rising sun fell through the window. Minho was lounging on the sofa, scrolling through some app (his phone was kindly returned to him) when the sound of soft steps from socked feet reached his ears.

Jisung's sleepy voice came from the hallway. "Minho?"

Minho looked up and immediately sensed that something was wrong. The human had one hand pressed to his operated eye and his hunched posture suggested that he was in pain. The next moment, Minho was at his side.

"I'm here, Jisung. What's wrong?" The demon tried to keep the worry out of his voice as he carefully cupped Jisung's face with both hands. "Are you hurt?"

"My eye doesn't feel good. Can- can you look?"

Jisung's free hand clutched Minho's shirt as he led him to the bathroom. On any other morning, Jisung would be much more relaxed sitting on the stool while Minho gave him medical eye drops. Anxiety settled like a hazy veil around Minho's shoulders.

Minho carefully removed the bandage and exposed the eye.

Jisung gasped, an involuntary reflex to the tense atmosphere. "Is it bad?"

Bruises were still visible in places, but the eye itself looked normal, as it had the days before. "As far as I can tell, everything looks normal. You say it feels weird?"

Jisung hummed. "Like something is pressing from the inside and- oh..." Jisung lowered his head. "That's not a good sign."

Minho noticed Jisung's tight lips and how he was trying to blink away the tears. "Hey, we don't know anything yet. I'll give you eye drops, put on a fresh bandage and in... two hours we'll go to the doctor. He'll take a closer look. What do you say?"

Jisung sniffed and nodded. A brief silence. "If it comes to that and nothing can be saved" - a wet laugh escaped Jisung's lungs - "then I'll be completely blind and you can call me Neo."

Minho opened the outer packaging of the eye drops and looked up in surprise, but couldn't say a word.

Jisung grinned mischievously. "Surprised by my choice of words?"

"A little, yes," Minho admitted and tilted Jisung's head back so that he could give him the eye drops more easily. "I wasn't expecting it."

Jisung shrugged. "I could fall into despair, but, to be honest, it's so much more fun catching people off guard. That's my disability and I talk about it however I want."

Minho paused. Jisung's relaxed attitude surprised him (him, the hardened demon), and yet a smile made its way out. "You're much braver than you seem at first glance, Jisung."

A light blush shimmered through Jisung's cheeks. Minho's hand was still on his face. He could swear that something had just changed. A subtle change in mood, perhaps? Jisung's hand lay warmly and carefully on Minho's, he smiled sweetly and again it seemed as if he could see the demon. Clear and distinct. Not blurry, as he had said yesterday at lunch.

Jisung perceived light and shadow, could see movements and rough outlines when something was right in front of him. But only in his right eye and when it wasn't hidden behind a thick bandage.

When they talked, Jisung always looked past him. But in this moment, in the bathroom just before eight in the morning, both of his eyes were focused on Minho.

"Thank you for being here, Minho," Jisung whispered, gently squeezing Minho's hand.

Words dipped in honey, Jisung's smile, and Minho's heart leapt up his throat.

With nervous hands, he finished changing the bandage and led Jisung back to his room when he stopped with the door handle in his hand because Jisung stopped him.

"Are you going back to the living room?" Jisung asked, sounding unusually shy. Minho hummed. "Can I lie next to you? I... I don't want to be alone right now."

Minho's mouth suddenly went dry and his knees felt as soft as rubber. He opened his mouth to answer.

"Only if you don't mind," Jisung quickly interjected.

Minho cleared his throat. He ignored the warmth on his face. "Is that what you need right now?"

Jisung nodded eagerly and clung to Minho's shirt.

As they walked into the living room, Minho wondered how he was going to do this. The sofa wasn't overly big. But he didn't hesitate as he lay down behind Jisung, pulled the fluffy blanket from the backrest and threw it over them both. Minho's heart was pounding like crazy, he wondered why no one had heard it until now. Maybe he was about to have a heart attack.

Minho put an arm around Jisung's waist, but kept a respectful distance, the human breathed deeply and after a few minutes his breathing became more even, his body lost tension.

Something dizzyingly gentle spread through Minho. He knew it had something to do with Jisung and no matter how hard he tried to maintain a professionally distant attitude, he couldn't (and didn't want to) fight his rising feelings for this one human.

𓆩𓄋𓆪

The ophthalmologist had prescribed antibiotics for Jisung because (as Minho understood) an infection was developing. There were no problems with the stitches in his eye. After the doctor's visit, he took Jisung home and then ran a few errands in town. With the packed medicine in his hand, Minho headed for the room at the end of the hall. He paused in front of the door when he heard Jisung talking.

"There's something odd about my caregiver, Chan. He's kind, respectful, diligent. But I can't shake the feeling that he's not who he claims to be"

Minho froze. Voices came from Jisung's room. A phone call. Shaking his head, he pulled back his outstretched hand. He wasn't claiming to be anyone, he was a demon, but that didn't mean he was going around advertising it. And Jisung was blind. Temporarily blind, check the facts, buddy.

The other voice (what name did Jisung mention? Chan?) had a strange but charming accent. "...you want, I can do a little research." A short pause. "I know you can take good care of yourself, but please be careful anyway, alright? If he does anything stupid, I'll jump on the next plane and kick him in the-"

Jisung interrupted his conversation partner, but Minho stopped listening and covered himself in smoke and disappeared. He shouldn't be back yet. At least not so soon. Maybe the phone call was about something else entirely. Minho had only overheard a few snippets of the conversation.

Stay calm, Minho. Everything is going to be be fine.

𓆩𓄋𓆪

Tense days full of unspoken worry. Jisung didn't let it show, but Minho could feel how much the whole situation was weighing on him. That, and whatever had worried him so much days ago, he needed to call a friend. Minho wanted to prove to him that he was trustworthy. His behavior towards him hadn't changed, in fact Minho had the impression that Jisung had become more relaxed since yesterday. He chatted more often, sought physical contact. But that was probably just a coincidence and due to circumstances, as Jisung relied mostly on his sense of hearing and touch.

When Minho needed cheering up, he usually paid a visit to the fire cats of the underworld. But today it wasn't about him, but about the human named Jisung.

Jisung, who caused an excited tingling in Minho's stomach just by looking at him. Jisung, whose touch was warm and gentle and sent a wave of fire through Minho's body.

A surprise was waiting for Jisung. Squeezed orange and lemon peels were piled up in the organic waste bin, kiwi peels lay scattered next to it, splashes of juice and melted ice glittered in the light of the halogen lamps high up on the kitchen ceiling.

Minho handed him a tall glass with a light green liquid. Thin slices of lime and mint leaves floated in it.

Jisung sniffed. "What is that?" he asked skeptically.

"It's called a mocktail. A non-alcoholic cocktail. Try it."

Jisung brought the glass to his mouth, taking a very tentative sip. He smacked his lips and then his face lit up. "Mmm, that's really good!" A bigger sip followed. "What's the occasion?"

For some reason, Minho became flustered. "Oh, just because, and because the last few days have been a bit gray and- and I wanted to make you happy."

Jisung's eyebrows raised in surprise. "For- for me?" The words came out very quietly. Deep emotions swirled to the surface in his eyes (dim and blind did not mean expressionless). He put the glass down, reached out both arms and sensed where Minho was standing to pull him into a tight hug. Minho returned the hug. He would hold the human as long as he needed.

"Thank you, Minho," Jisung mumbled into his shirt.

Minho smiled. "You don't have to thank me, really."

Tender feelings wrapped around Minho's ribs like vines. Buds bloomed, butterflies fluttered, painting silver shadows in a light pink colored land.

"Oh, I got you something," Minho said, remembering the other thing, and gently pulled away from the hug. He quickly fetched it from the living room and stood in front of Jisung again. "Because yesterday you said the bandage annoys you so much." Minho pulled something black and made of soft fabric out of a small paper bag and put it in Jisung's hands.

Jisung felt it, but seemed confused. "What is that?"

"An eye patch. This way you get rid of the bandage and still protect your eye."

For a second Minho felt stupid, but all doubts were dispelled when Jisung smiled in surprised gratitude. "Put it on me, please."

Minho removed the bandage and the eye patch fit perfectly. Jisung did not express any discomfort, or that the straps were too tight, or that anything was pressing.

Jisung stood up straighter, proud like the British Grenadier Guards. "How do I look?"

"Like a pirate," Minho quipped.

Jisung took his glass with the green drink and toasted Minho. "Aye, mate!"

Minho laughed, exuberantly and absolutely enraptured. With all his heart. Jisung joined in and the air crackled.

When Jisung laughs, the sun rises.

A mischievous grin flashed across Jisung's mouth. Again that look that Minho couldn't quite place, whether Jisung could see or he was just imagining it. "You have beautiful horns."

Minho choked on his neon blue mocktail. Coughing, he wiped his mouth. "What?"

Jisung giggled. "I'm just kidding." He waved it off, took a sip and apparently still found his joke incredibly funny because he snorted into the glass and spread the mocktail all over himself and the kitchen counter.

Minho quickly got to work, cleaning everything up, first the counter, then he looked at Jisung. "You've got something there." He wiped Jisung's cheek with his thumb. He felt the human tremble under his touch. He wanted to pull his hand away, but Jisung's skin was like a magnet.

Jisung nearly closed the distance between them, his hands found Minho's shoulders and his face came dangerously close to his. When his hands wandered upwards, searching, exploring, and warm fingers wrapped around his face, Minho's eyelids fluttered and his brain lost its bearings for a moment. As if by themselves, his hands found support on Jisung's waist, he barely noticed the action.

Warm breath fanned over his mouth and like a curious child, Jisung felt every inch of Minho's face. He was gentle in his touches. His fingers snaked into Minho's hair, but only briefly, and Minho forgot to breathe when Jisung's fingertips touched his lips. The grip around Jisung's midsection tightened.

Every cell in his body screamed with the need to pull Jisung closer and connect their lips. But Minho waited. He wanted to let Jisung decide.

Jisung was so warm, Minho wanted to lie down inside him, curl up and forget the world, if only for a moment. Jisung radiated exactly that kind of warmth Minho had always longed for. A beacon on the dark sea.

It happened simultaneously. Jisung breathed the demon's name and Minho's hands squeezed Jisung's waist, which was enough to make the seemingly endless distance between them dissolve. Jisung kissed Minho. And Minho let it happen.

The butterflies in Minho's stomach caught fire and a cloud of bliss shrouded his brain. Dazed, he felt Jisung's soft lips slide over his. Slowly, gently. His breath caught when Jisung's tongue came into play and Minho willingly gave in to this silent request. The taste of minty lime in Jisung's mouth was intoxicating.

Jisung's hands clasped behind Minho's neck and pulled him closer. His head was spinning, the demon was sure he would pass out if he opened his eyes now, so he kept them closed and fell deeper and deeper into Jisung.

Minho was the first to pull away from the intense make-out. On one hand to catch his breath, on the other hand his self-control was crumbling and he would have liked to lift Jisung up and lay him down on the kitchen table.

His head was still spinning. Jisung seemed to feel the same way, his fingers dug into the fabric of Minho's shirt and he kept his eyes closed until he could breathe normally again. Then he licked his lips and an animalistic noise almost escaped from Minho's lungs.

When the atmosphere relaxed again, Jisung slipped into another shirt and afterwards the demon and the human enjoyed the many drinks and snacks, and didn't say another word about their kiss.

𓆩𓄋𓆪

Thick, white snowflakes danced and swirled around in front of the window. Minho's head was empty and his motivation didn't really dare to get going; like every time he saw snow. A heavy coat over his heart, an intangible weight that he didn't even know where it came from.

Sleep didn't want to find him that night. As soon as he closed his eyes, memories of the kiss with Jisung forced themselves into his mind. He felt like a sponge overly saturated with water, Jisung was the water and oozed out of every pore. It was an agonizingly beautiful feeling.

Minho's blissful smile sank. Three days had passed since the kiss. Jisung seemed distant, not defensive or hostile, but rather lost in thought. Last night, before they retired for the night, he offered Jisung an open ear - if he ever wanted to talk, should he be ready to do so.

He looked at his wrist, ran his index finger over the deep black lines, and let his arm fall back onto the mattress, powerless. Minho sighed. He rolled onto his side. The blanket lay comfortably heavy on him and he closed his eyes.

Only a little later he woke up with a start, thinking he had heard something. Minho listened into the silence of his room. Nothing. Then, a rumble. It sounded like something heavy had fallen over. Minho shot up and entered the dark hallway. His demonic eyes took in the surroundings in a flash. Jisung crouched between the bedroom and the bathroom, breathing unevenly and whimpering, pressing himself deeper into the corner, his face hidden in his hands.

Minho sat down next to him. "I'm here, Jisung, everything's fine," he whispered and placed a reassuring hand on Jisung's shoulder. Jisung flinched. "It's me, Minho."

Jisung's panicked gaze cleared and clammy hands grabbed Minho's. Fearful vulnerability shone through the cracks in his humanity. Minutes passed and Jisung seemed to gradually calm down.

With a deep breath, Jisung leaned against the wall. Minho continued to hold his hand. "I'm cold," the human said weakly.

Minho pulled him up and brought him back to bed, where he covered him up and then sat on the edge of the bed. "I'll make you some tea," Minho suggested, while his fingers stroked Jisung's hair soothingly. "Chamomile?"

It hurt his heart to see Jisung like this. He had a nightmare that had followed him into the waking reality; Minho recognized such states immediately, those affected radiated a kind of black jagged aura around their heads.

Jisung drank his chamomile tea in small sips. Minho was lying next to him in bed, Jisung had insisted. It was quiet and the room was dark, a small night light next to the door provided just enough light. Everything was designed so that Jisung could navigate through his apartment; automatic lights in every room, voice-controlled devices, every object had a fixed place. And for the first time, Minho found that it wasn't such a bad thing to have been assigned to Jisung as a caregiver.

"I'm scared."

Minho almost didn't hear the voice next to him, he was too busy thinking. "What are you scared of?"

A short pause. "Going completely blind." He took another big sip and put the cup on the nightstand.

Strings tightened around Minho's chest. He automatically grabbed Jisung's hand and intertwined their fingers. He squeezed gently, telling him that he was listening and helping him through this. "How did it happen?"

"I lost my left eye in an accident at work. How stupid when a sawblade flies through the air with full force and even the safety goggles are useless. That was years ago, but I still feel the pain in my dreams." The shadow of a memory flashed across his face. There was silence for a few moments. "Spontaneous retinal detachment. Happens a lot in my family. I prepared for it as best as I could, but when it actually happens... that's..."

Minho would have to lie to say that Jisung's story didn't make him sad. Suffering such a fate through no fault of his own wasn't fair. If Minho could, he would swap places with Jisung. "It's like diving. You can read all about it, watch videos, but only when you feel the pressure of the water on you, what it's like to move underwater, only then do you realize that it's a completely different world. Some things can only be understood when you experience them."

Minho's words were followed by a long silence. With bated breath, he watched as Jisung's eyebrows drew together thoughtfully.

"A somewhat strange comparison," he finally said, amusement in his words, "but basically you're right. Thank you." He squeezed Minho's hand and slid a little higher, getting closer to Minho. Unintentionally? "And thank you for not trying to cheer me up right away."

"Why would I do that? You didn't ask."

Jisung laughed briefly, surprised. Was what Minho said really that funny? He nibbled on his lip and Minho noticed it - the nervous curiosity. "Can I ask you something, Minho?"

A mischievous sideways glance. "You did just that," he said, but immediately apologized to Jisung and told him to ask away.

"Where are you from?"

Minho blinked rapidly. He had expected a question about his age, but Jisung probably already knew that (what agency would withhold important details from their clients?). Several thoughts and options to get out of this situation were buzzing through his head at the same time. But Minho was not like other demons - he couldn't lie.

Minho took a deep breath to collect himself. "From the underworld."

"So you're a demon?"

"I am."

Something unexpected happened: Jisung smiled, as if he knew. "Thank you for your honesty."

The tension that stretched through the room noticeably eased. The pair lay in bed, hand in hand, and to Minho it felt like they had never done anything else. Like they had known each other forever. Minho's gaze wandered over Jisung's half-covered, slender body and his eyes stopped on his waist. He remembered the feeling of his hands on them, and how warm Jisung was, his soft lips-

"Forgive me for kissing you," Jisung whispered.

Minho winced inwardly and looked up. "What- why are you saying that?"

Jisung sighed heavily. "Because it was inappropriate. You were nice to me, you are even now, and I let my feelings take hold of me." A shake of the head. "If you get into trouble because of this, I will take full responsibility."

"Jisung, I could have said 'stop' at any time. I could have pushed you away from me. But I didn't."

"Why not?"

"What if I wanted it as much as you did?"

All of a sudden, the heavy mood completely dissipated and electrifying curiosity danced on Minho's fingertips. Jisung slid closer, fearless hands feeling his face.

"Can I kiss you again?" Jisung asked breathlessly, a thumb lightly brushing Minho's lips.

Minho's heart was pounding in his throat. "You want to kiss me?"

Jisung nodded and hummed. But Minho needed more than that. He was ready to give Jisung everything, but he appreciated manners and the odd spoken word.

Minho let two seconds pass. When Jisung remained silent, he wrapped an arm around his middle and pulled the human under him so swiftly that Jisung laughed in surprise. Minho was lying on top of him. "Say please," he murmured.

Jisung took a shaky breath. "W-what?"

Minho's face came closer and closer to Jisung's. Their noses touched and the narrow gap between their lips crackled. "Say it."

"Minho, please-"

Demonic lips pressed gently against human ones. A fire ignited between them and effortlessly melted away the last hurdles. One hand landed on Jisung's neck, pulling him closer, with the other he supported himself on the mattress to catch his weight (he didn't want to crush the human yet). They kissed slowly, hearts beating higher and enjoying each other in that moment.

Jisung's hands wandered over Minho's shoulders and into his hair, soft sounds fell from his mouth as the demon deepened the kiss, his tongue licked the lips of the human who immediately granted him access.

Minho got involved with a human and he knew there was no turning back.

Breaths uneven, lust and desire sped up Minho's heartbeat, he was sure it would stop at any moment. Jisung's fingernails scratched along Minho's back. He shuddered and stopped kissing Jisung for a moment (suddenly aware that he was completely on top of him). He put a hand to his face, gently running his thumb over the soft skin, watching Jisung's reaction closely as he grinded his hips down on him. Jisung responded beautifully, his throaty moan leaving a particularly delicious tickle in Minho's stomach.

The demon rolled his hips a few times and Jisung lifted himself into him, feeling his arousal - knowing that he, Minho was responsible for it - sent him to the brink of ecstasy. Sighs of pleasure and shallow breaths filled the dark room, window panes fogging up as they fell into a faster rhythm.

"Minho," Jisung gasped. "Minho, I need... I need..."

Entwined in each other, bodies pressed incredibly tightly together. Minho was panting just as heavily, he was completely dazed. "You need... more?"

Jisung squirmed. "Yes" - a pleading kiss landed on Minho's mouth - "more" - another kiss - "please" - on the third kiss he pushed his tongue in and sucked on Minho's with devotion.

A dizzying wave swept through Minho's head and set his body on fire. Clothes flew off heated bodies, exploring hands slid over soft skin. Greedy kisses, wet and addictive, only interrupted by the occasional gasp for air.

Minho kissed him deeply and intimately, while his hand moved from Jisung's waist further south. A finger hooked itself under Jisung's waistband. "May I?" he asked hoarsely and received a breathless 'yes'.

His boxer shorts flew into some corner and Jisung inhaled sharply as Minho's hand wrapped around him. Movements, initially agonizingly slow, accompanied by Jisung's moans of pleasure as the pace increased. For the time being, Minho put his own stimulation aside and helped Jisung to his orgasm. To hear, see and feel him fall apart beneath him in absolute ecstasy - that alone was worth a fall from grace. The demon slowly led Jisung down from his high with gentle kisses and then let go of him.

"My turn now," Jisung breathed into Minho's ear and the demon saw stars as he also lost his underwear and felt a firm hand grip around him.

With each upward stroke, Jisung squeezed a little, kissing him passionately. Minho had quickly reached a new level of sparkling excitement - Jisung worked him so well. Lips latched on his neck, sucking the skin, his hips faltered and after two more thrusts into Jisung's warm hand, Minho found the relief his body craved.

With a slight ringing in his ears, Minho fell back onto the bed next to Jisung. They kissed languidly and slowly, enjoying the moment of intimate togetherness. It was a long kiss, not hungry or devouring, but relieving and in a way sealing.

"You okay?" Minho asked quietly and brushed the hair from Jisung's face.

Jisung struggled to keep his heavy eyelids open (Minho laughed to himself, at that moment he found the human incredibly cute). "Mhm, just tired."

"Let's get ourselves cleaned up, then we can sleep." Minho slid off the bed and picked Jisung up so he could carry him like a koala.

Jisung's arms wrapped around his shoulders. "Wow, you're strong."

Minho liked the compliment, he liked it a lot. He turned on the shower and when the water was hot, he carefully put the human underneath. He quickly cleaned him first, then himself. Minho's heart continued to beat long after Jisung (washed and in fresh clothes) was long since sleeping peacefully in his arms.

The beacon turned into the rising sun and glittered like a thousand diamonds on the dark surface of the water.

𓆩𓄋𓆪

The antibiotics worked well and the doctor allowed Jisung to take off the eye patch permanently. No more bandages. No more blind fumbling. Just eye drops once a day. His world might still be blurry and out of focus, but that meant he had regained some independence. It was only a matter of time before his eyesight was restored. Jisung's joy outshone the gray, snowy day like a thousand suns. Like the concentrated beam of light from a magnifying glass aimed at an ant.

Minho shook his head in bewilderment at his own thoughts. He and Jisung sat in a small, cozy café, eating cake and scalding their tongues on hot chocolate. Jisung danced happily in his armchair with every bite. The stars sparkled in his eyes, beautiful and fascinating. For Minho, the sun was not hidden behind a thick layer of gray clouds, but rather sitting right in front of him.

𓆩𓄋𓆪

Minho couldn't rest his head thinking about his future. He knew why, but that didn't make things any easier. Jisung wanted to go to the ophthalmologist's appointment a month later alone. There was nothing wrong with it, the human could see well enough and it meant that his recovery was progressing in leaps and bounds. Minho was happy about that, but at the same time his brain was running at full speed with what-if questions. To distract himself, he cleaned the whole apartment and after a few hours everything was sparkling clean, almost sterile.

With the folder in his hand, Minho stood in his room. He hoped to find answers there. But who was he trying to fool, he had read through these pages so many times, he could recite the contents in his sleep. But when he turned the last page, fiery red words shimmered at him. Those were new.

Enjoy your freedom.

And suddenly the folder burst into flames and trickled to the floor in a pile of ash. A sharp pain shot through his left arm, the black, snake-like lines around his wrist dissolved and disappeared. As if they had never been there. A gasp came from the door and Minho spun around. Jisung was there.

"Jisung, you're back. Didn't hear you coming." Minho put a hand over his racing heart.

Jisung stepped closer, the corners of his mouth twitching, he tried to suppress a grin. "Was that your contract with me?"

Minho nodded. They both knew what that meant. "How was the check-up? Did everything go well?"

With sparkling eyes, Jisung took Minho's hand. His voice was barely louder than a whisper, but the demon understood every word clearly. "I can see normally again."

The surgery was a success and the wound had healed perfectly. Minho lifted the human up with a cheer and spun him in a circle. Jisung wrapped his arms around his shoulders and laughed exuberantly and liberated. With his feet back on solid ground, he pressed several small kisses on Minho's mouth. Jisung had fully recovered, he had to write that down in the calendar. No, in his soul.

But... that meant that Minho would no longer be his caregiver. Enjoy your freedom. Minho was free and could go anywhere. Back to the underworld, where he knew everything and everyone, but nothing was waiting for him? Stay on earth, where he was more human than demon and knew no one? No one, except... Jisung. His heart screamed to stay with Jisung, but did Jisung want the same?

Jisung poked him in the cheek with the tip of his nose. "What's wrong? You look so serious."

Minho loosened his grip on the human. "I don't want to spoil the mood."

"Speak up."

"Jisung, I'm so happy that you're healthy again. That probably means you don't need me anymore."

Disappointment and hurt flickered through Jisung's eyes so quickly that Minho doubted his ability to interpret emotions. "Minho," Jisung said with a small smile, his hands gently rubbing Minho's shoulders and his face slowly coming closer. "Not as a caregiver anymore, that's true. But for something else, I do." His lips brushed Minho's ear very gently and a shiver ran down his spine. Jisung winked and took a step back. "I got something to eat. Come on, I'm starving."

Thick, heavy snowflakes buried the empty flower pot on the windowsill. It was cold, wet and windy outside, but it was warm and cozy in the kitchen. Minho grabbed a dim sum dumpling with his chopsticks and popped it into his mouth. Jisung recoued in detail about his short trip to the city; about the colorful lights hanging between trees and street lamps, about the insanely long queue in front of the ice rink, to the almost endless selection of sweets at the market stalls (cinnamon seemed to be very popular this year).

Jisung's eyes lit up, his complexion gained some color, and he excitedly wiggled his feet under the table. He almost forgot about his noodles until Minho gently nudged him with his toes. Jisung lived up and Minho basked in his glory.

The day was slowly drawing to a close, the pair was lounging on the sofa, a movie about a dragon woman who had to learn to trust was playing on the TV. In the middle of the movie (the dragon woman was trapped in another dimension), Jisung excused himself briefly. Minho was barely listening, the movie was so exciting. When Jisung came back, he snuggled up under the covers with Minho.

The credits rolled.

Jisung sat up. "What did you think of the movie?" he asked, his voice ringing deeper than usual.

Minho yawned and stretched. "I have to give you humans credit for one thing, you are so very creative."

Jisung raised an eyebrow. "Is that all? Just creative?"

Minho sat up, putting one arm on the backrest. "I can also give you a brutally detailed treatise on the psychological background of the director and the screenwriters, if that sounds more appealing to you."

"Even with sources?"

There was a glint in Jisung's eyes, lurking, as if he was poking a finger into Minho's brain and waiting for his reaction. Minho leaned back without taking his eyes off Jisung. The wind picked up and howled through the building, which increased the tension between them. A smirk appeared on Minho's mouth.

Jisung bit his lower lip, glanced to the side for a second, and then inched a little closer. With one hand he rested his head on the backrest and the other hand landed on Minho's thigh. It just lay there, warm and... distracting.

"How about we skip dessert?" Jisung whispered.

Minho had to remind himself to breathe; which became harder the longer he looked at Jisung's pretty face. "Depends on what's the alternative."

The hand squeezed Minho's thigh, he swallowed hard, and the space between their faces quickly shrank.

Jisung's eyes grew heavier, shinier. "Can I show you?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Jisung pulled Minho towards him by the neck and the two fell into a longing kiss. Lips moved against each other, sucking, nibbling, longing for more.

Jisung straddled Minho, one hand in his hair, the other on his neck. Minho's hands grabbed him by the waist and he gave himself completely to Jisung, who kissed him into an inebriation he never wanted to sober up from.

Jisung leaned forward, his body fitting perfectly with Minho's. They both moaned as their crotches touched. Jisung rocked back and forth, Minho had to slow him down as he was going too fast. Pleasure trumped satisfaction, at least for now.

Minho's body trembled with desire as Jisung kissed his way down Minho's neck. His shirt flew into some corner. Jisung spread wet kisses over Minho's torso and stomach. Minho met Jisung's intense gaze - the demon nodded, the desire in Jisung's eyes revealed his question.

Red, excited kisses adorned Minho's stomach and the insides of his thighs, a hand slowly working Minho's arousal. Jisung kept eye contact with him, but Minho's eyelids fluttered and his head fell back as Jisung took him into his mouth. He sucked on the tip, Minho's hips rose a little, wanting to go deeper into the moist warmth. Jisung took his time. Minho's brain turned to mush.

Jisung moaned and sent dizzying vibrations up Minho's spine. He could no longer hold back the sounds that left his mouth. Deep in his lower body he felt the impending orgasm, just in time he gently pulled Jisung off.

He leaned forward and cupped Jisung's face with both hands. "You're crazy," he croaked and kissed him.

In a cloud of smoke they landed in bed, with Jisung under Minho.

"That was quick," the human gasped, surprised.

"Don't worry," Minho murmured, "I'll take my time from now on."

Jisung raised his arms and Minho ripped his shirt off his body, followed shortly by his sweatpants. They fell into a heated embrace of long kisses, their erections rubbing against each other.

"Minho, look in the top drawer of the nightstand."

Minho reached out and found a pack of condoms and a full tube of lube.

Jisung kissed Minho's neck. "Prepare me, please."

He said please. "As you wish."

Minho spread lube between his fingers, warming it up, and lay next to Jisung as he began to stretch him. As promised, he took his time, kissing Jisung, whispering sweet words, and after three fingers, Jisung was begging him to fucking finally take him.

Minho put on a condom, spread a generous amount of lube, positioned himself, and slowly penetrated Jisung. He paid attention to the slightest movement on his face, and at the first sign of discomfort or even pain, Minho stopped.

"Are you okay, Jisung?"

He laughed nervously for a moment. "It's been a while for me."

"We can stop at any time."

"Don't you dare." He pulled Minho deeper into himself by his hips.

When Minho was completely inside, he paused and waited for Jisung to give him an 'okay'. Minho kissed Jisung and slowly moved back and forth, Jisung wrapped his legs around Minho's hips, the kisses became messier, thrusts faster and more intense.

With a strong tug, Minho pulled Jisung onto his lap. The change in position brought completely new, intense sensations with it.

Jisung gasped, his fingernails digging into Minho's shoulders. "You're so strong!"

"If you call that strong," Minho groaned, "then you haven't experienced anything yet."

Surrounded by smoke, Minho stood in the middle of the room, his arms under Jisung's legs, holding him by the hips as he thrust into him from below. The grip on his hips was relentless and sure to leave bruises that would remain visible for a long time. Jisung clutched his hair, stammering incoherent syllables caused by Minho's powerful thrusts.

Jisung's uncontrolled moans were music to Minho's ears. He studied Jisung's beautiful face, and when he came, he always wanted to remember the way his eyebrows knitted together, the way his body shook, and how he held onto Minho. He felt the muscle contractions around his cock and that finally sent him over the edge. White-hot and ecstatic, completely detached from everything he knew so far.

Minho gently laid his Jisung back on the bed, he was breathing heavily and seemed a little out of it. He carefully pulled out, disposed of the used condom and returned with a warm, wet washcloth. Minho made sure Jisung was properly clean before covering him up and then going to clean himself.

It was only when he put Jisung in fresh clothes that the human returned to the present with a deep breath. Tiredness and deep satisfaction lay heavy on his face. The hint of a smile played around his lips. "Hi."

Minho returned the smile. "Hi. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been properly gotten laid." Burning warmth shot into Minho's ears, neck and cheeks. Jisung laughed. "I definitely won't be able to walk tomorrow, but I'm fine, great, even. And you?"

Minho turned off the light and cuddled up next to Jisung under the covers. "I've never been better, but I'm about to fall asleep any second. There's a bottle of water for you on the nightstand." The demon managed a weak smile before giving in to his exhaustion and falling asleep.

Minho, the demon, had united with Jisung, a human, in a way that bound them together forever on every possible level.

𓆩𓄋𓆪

Minho's consciousness drifted along. Gently flowing, free of thoughts, until a sound pierced the barrier between waking and sleeping. Minho stirred a little. Pale light fell into the room and he was pleasantly surprised to find how rested he felt. He had the best sleep of his life, but this was not his room, his window was on the right and this one was on the left.

He heard a noise behind him and when he turned around, the memories came flooding back. Jisung was curled up next to him, breathing evenly, an arm lying heavily around Minho's middle.

Minho smiled. He could get used to waking up next to Jisung, sharing an apartment and... being with him. If Jisung wanted that too. In the silence of the dark room, Minho watched Jisung sleeping and he couldn't be happier. Minho was happy, for the first time in a long time.

Jisung stirred, took a deep breath and when he saw Minho in front of him, he blinked slowly, his eyes sparkling. He placed a warm hand on Minho's cheek. "You're staying with me."

Minho brought Jisung's hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. "Forever."

𓆩𓄋𓆪

The news spread like wildfire. Minho, a fourth-rank demon, loved a human. The rumor mill was rife and some people were annoyed by this kind of relationship. The judge who had imposed this activity on Minho as a condition of his parole, however, laughed happily.

Two souls, torn apart in their previous lives, now finally reunited.

#minsung #minsung fic #han jisung #lee minho #lee know #han #skz #stray kids #fanfic writing #fanfics #romance #love story #demon x human #smut #disability #fantasy #cross posted on ao3 #cross posted on wattpad #I'll be your eyes

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