Chapter Text
Blindfolded I.
Han Jisung
The pen flew across the paper in rushed, uneven movements as Jisung tried to let out the hurricane of his emotions into something tangible. The little white canvas was already a battlefield of scratched-out ideas, disconnected lyrics, arrows looping around one thought into the next. It was chaos. Beautiful, resplendent chaos and he loved it.
He loved making music. There was nothing he would love more in this world.
Well… maybe except a little peace and a clean table. Neither of which existed in this hellhole of a dorm room.
It was way too small for two people to co-exist in. Let alone two people who couldn’t stand each other.
Lee Minho was Jisung’s roommate for a whole month but it felt like ages. Even when Minho was nowhere to be found, he was everywhere constantly. His stuff took up every available surface. School work, clothes, bits and fragments of him claiming space, stealing the oxygen from the room. Jisung barely had a corner of desk to work on. Which was criminal, because how can one work on his music career in these conditions.
Jisungs sighed, finally pushing himself away from the mess of notes and lyrics he'd spent the past hour untangling. He reached for his phone to call Changbin, to let him know that the next-to-be-masterpiece is finally done, when the door clicked open.
Minho, also known as trouble personified, strolled in like he owned the place. Which he didn’t, but it sure looked like that. In his white shirt tucked into jeans, leather jacket slung carelessly over one shoulder, sunglasses shoved up into messy hair he looked like he came out of the “Assholes magazine.”
Minho stopped in the doorway, his gaze sliding over the mess like he was satisfied with it, he gave Jisung one of his one-eyebrow-down-one-lip-corner-up looks when he took in the scenario. “Role-playing a tortured poet again?"
“Shut up.” Jisung was done with his bullshit long before he came in.
“What’s this one about? Your grades fucking up?”
“About plotting a murder of one certain person.” Jisung shot back. “In excruciating detail.”
Minho snorted, crossing the room over to his bed. “Right. Confessing before the crime actually happens, not very smart.”
“Neither are you. Shut up.”
“You’ve already said that.” Minho grabbed his gym bag, slinging it over his shoulder in one graceful motion like it weighed nothing.
“And still you haven’t done it.” Jisung gritted his teeth.
“Relax, Shakespeare. I’m here just for my stuff.”
He was halfway out the door when he paused, looking back. “It’s kind of flattering, you know, being your muse.”
And he was gone. Jisung stared at the door for a moment, before he mumbled once again: “Shut up.”
***
The campus was overflowing with people that day. The late September sun had decided to show up one last time and no one was wasting time to hang out outside. Students were sprawled across the university lawn on blankets, some of them half-studying, a few sleeping, others just basking in the golden hour, chatting.
Jisung weaved through the chaos with the grace of an over-caffeinated squirrel, muttering apologies when he stepped on someone’s foot or kicked over a carefully positioned drink.
But he was just excited. His freshly made song was burning in his pocket and he needed Changbin to hear it.
The two of them usually met in the tiny makeshift recording studio granted to the extracurricular music club that Changbin was a part of.
Nothing fancy, but it was private. A safe space to talk about music, try new beats and insult each other’s lyrics in peace.
Jisung wasn’t part of the club. Yet.
According to Changbin, the music club was actually just him and the founder of it, Bang Chan. So, nothing fancy, but Jisung still wanted to be a part of something, no matter how microscopic. Jisung didn’t have the chance to meet Chan, but Changbin promised to introduce them soon.
He heard Changbin before he could even see him flexing his arms.
“What do you mean, thirty minutes? I’m hungry NOW!”
Changbin was one of the lucky bastards that were actually allowed to study music for a degree. Jisung’s parents wouldn't let him, so he decided for the least painful option - international communication.
Jisung had the pleasure of knowing that hungry Changbin equaled extra dramatic Changbin. But he didn’t let this tiny inconvenience suppress his excitement, as he entered the studio to find his friend tossing his phone to the side, limbs splayed out on the small sofa like he just ran a marathon.
“Delivery drama again?”
“They said thirty minutes!” Changbin groaned and kicked the invisible delivery guy in front of him. “It does not take that long to make Japchae. And dumplings. And kimchi.”
“No, but it does take that long to deliver it to your ass.” Jisung chirped and tossed his bag down.
“Hey! I’m working, don't you see?”
Jisung gave the place a quick once-over; no laptop open, no mixing desk turned on, no sign of him actually doing something other than manspreading and whining.
“I bet, hyung.”
The overworked hit-maker leaned back, pointing a finger at Jisung. “It’s your fault! You said you had something urgent.”
Jisung took the opportunity to lead the conversation to his serotonin boost.
“I finished the song!” He squealed, excitement flowing through his system. Changbin reached out for the folded paper Jisung had abruptly taken out of his pocket before he even sat down.
“This better be a certified banger. Or I’m never forgiving you for dragging me here when Hyunjin’s cute ass is currently warming up my bed. Naked.” He added casually.
“Jesus..” Before he could help it, Jisung’s brain overflowed with the images of his friend’s boyfriend. “Spare me the details of your love life, will you?”
“Why, you jealous?” Changbin wiggled his eyebrows.
“Of you or Hyunjin? Neither.”
“You should get laid.” Said Changbin as he began to unfold the paper. Jisung gave him a “I-fucking-know-dude” look. But he didn’t say anything, because this session was not about discussing Jisung’s absence of sex in his life. It was about his music.
Changbin skimmed the lyrics first. Brows furrowed in that half-serious, half-mocking way he did when he was actually impressed but he didn’t want to give it away easily. His fingers tapped in an absent rhythm on his thigh while he read and Jisung was trying to act casual about it, but in his head he was counting seconds.
Finally, Changbin looked up and let out a whistle. “Okay. Not bad.”
“Not bad?” Jisung blinked. If God had written a song, it would be “Wish You Back”, as he named the song.
“Yeah, like.. it’s actually pretty good.” Changbin scratched his jaw, thinking. “You were the main character in the movie called me part slaps. Gut punch.”
Jisung sat straighter, as he was rubbing his shoulder it actually occurred to him how much he put in that song. He hasn't had the time to think about it properly yet, since he rushed over to show it off.
Changbin was nodding. “It’s got an ache to it, that’s relatable. Real.”
Jisung smiled, he felt like Changbin really saw him. Like the older brother he didn’t have. Someone who wouldn't lend him a shirt, but grant him his kidney if necessary. Too soon.
“Lonely as hell.”
Jisung nudged his shoulder. Was there another emotion in this world?
“Also…” Changbin ignored him and added with a smirk, “it sounds like you’ve never even had a hand to hold.”
Jisung groaned. “Oh my God, again? Really? That’s what you always say!”
“Hey! I’m just saying - this song screams “I’ve imagined cuddling more than I’ve actually done it.”
“I have cuddled!”
“One-armed side hug in high school doesn’t count. Especially when it was with me.”
Jisung huffed. “I hate you.”
Changbin grinned at him like he knew better. “No, you don’t. You love me for giving you honest reviews.”
“I hate you for being honest.”
Changbin folded the lyrics neatly and set them down. “I get the urgency now. You know what makes the song good?” His voice was somehow softer now, like he wasn’t waiting for his first real meal of the day. “It’s about getting to love. About…. wanting it so badly it hurts. Like…,” he thought about it, “when you’re sitting in the dark talking to someone who doesn’t answer back just because it’s better than sitting in silence.”
Sometimes Jisung forgot that his friend was actually a really observant person, sensitive to other people’s lives. “Yeah… That’s probably the message.”
“A lot of people will like it. You’re not faking anything.” Changbin nodded approvingly. There was a pause. And the room was too small, smaller than usual. The song had pulled something into the air, something un-named but well-known to Jisung. Then Changbin ruined it, of course. “Still. If you wanna keep writing music like this, you should at least have a first kiss.”
Jisung rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the advice.”
“You’re welcome, virgin poet. Let’s make the song alive.” Changbin ruffled his hair like a proud brother. Jisungs swatted him away, but he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips.
***
Jisung thought it through. He himself was not happy with his love life situation, the omnipresent loneliness, irresistible jealousy and the constant seek for the spark that never happened. Not to mention jerking off to thirsty edits of his favourite anime characters.
Fuck, he should get laid…
And college parties? Disaster. Jisung hated them. Especially the one he decided to attend that night.
But apparently, they were the only places where people actually met, where things happened, where he could possibly feel something. Preferably someone’s dick.
He was not desperate, no.
Shit. He was.
He was already on his second drink and it was too bitter. He liked sweet things, cakes, k-dramas, good-night kisses... But it seemed that Changbin’s idea of vodka-soda leaned more towards vodka-vodka. But when Jisung thought about it, the more alcohol the better. He needed to shove off his introverted ass and shove someone else's parts in it.
Did the alcohol even kick in?
Jisungs didn’t know, but he felt hot in his face. His head hurt, dizzy, maybe from the drink or the crowd or the loud music or the pink lights flashing around from where God knows.
Changbin had vanished with Hyunjin. Jisung thought they wanted to spare him their make out session, but no, the tall, lean good-looker was very fond of throwing it back so the dance floor was now Hwang Hyunjin shaking his ass off and half the crowd around cheering up for him. Jisung couldn't get rid of the thought of Hyunjin’s ass naked. God.
For a while Jisung just observed. Like he always did. He was not exactly a pro at meeting new people, but he was determined to speak to at least one person that’s not Changbin tonight.
He took another sip for courage.
And then… he saw it.
A familiar leather jacket scurried around. The messy hair and bruised knuckles slipping through the crowd towards the kitchen. Jisung didn’t even know what he was doing when he followed Minho. He didn’t think. He just moved. Minho. His arch nemesis.
He's gonna tell him.. what exactly?
Jesus. Was the ground always so blurred?
When he reached the kitchen on wobbly legs, Minho had his back turned to him, unscrewing a neon-pink bottle and pouring the disturbingly bright liquid into his cup. He looked like a bad decision in human form.
“What are you doing here?” Jisung spat, not hiding his distaste, leaning against the side of the fridge to get more support for his disobedient body.
Minho glanced over his shoulder, not startled in the slightest. His red party cup was half full and apparently the drink was not LGBTQ+ enough, because he began to unscrew another colorful bottle.
“Since when do parties have a guest list?”
“They do not.”
“Right, otherwise you wouldn’t be invited.” Minho smirked, lost in whatever poison he was making for himself.
“What even is that? Looks like unicorn piss.” Jisung pointed to Minho’s cup.
“Still tastes better than your music.” Minho shot back. He came prepared indeed.
Jisung’s free fist clenched at his side. Like he ever heard some of it. “You’re ruining this for me!” He whined, a pout forming on his lips.
Minho, finally satisfied with the potion, leaned his back against the counter like he owned the place. “Ruin, what, exactly?” He slurped on his drink, making the sound too loud on purpose.
“This!” Jisung waved around dramatically, sloshing vodka-vodka onto the floor. “My chances of finding the love of my life!”
Jisung was frowning so hard his face hurt. He already had the scenario prepared in the back of his head - Minho sneaking around, telling people made-up stories to embarrass him, or even mentioning the real ones, for example that once he found Jisung’s cum sock on the floor. Because that seemed like a logical thing right? Why else would he, out of the thousand parties going on around the campus, choose this particular one?
“The love of your life? At a college party?” Minho raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah! Or at least someone who would fuck me.” Maybe the alcohol kicked in after all?
Minho choked on his drink. Hah, at least one thing worked in Jisung’s favor.
Slowly his roommate straightened himself, putting the cup down. When he finally spoke, his annoying voice was laced with something indecipherable.
“You’re serious?”
Jisung nodded, lips pursed together. Why else would he trade a quiet night in his bed for this roaring madness?
“And who should that be?” The question was laid out carefully and Jisung had a feeling that he might jump out of his red burning skin. But hey, it didn't matter anyway. Changbin’s mix gave him the courage so he shall use it. “
I don’t know! Some cute badass guy who knows how to deal with virgins.”
Minho didn’t answer. He was just looking. Too still, too absorbed in something almost tangible … Until he laughed.
Not loud, but low, teeth flashing, his eyes softer around the edges but still with the dangerous hint like he was a cat on a hunt.
“Look at him. Han Jisung begging for it in a stranger’s kitchen.”
“I’m not begging for anything.”
“Right….” Minho walked over to him, confident and sure about his every move, enjoying how much space he took up.
Jisung instinctively backed away a step, abandoning his fridge-friend and nearly losing balance because suddenly the world was spinning.
“Then you should stop flinching every time a cute badass guy breathes near you.” Minho purred, his hand reaching too close to Jisung’s ear.
Just like the motherfucker said, Jisung flinched due to the sudden proximity. He felt the brush of leather against his cheek as Minho opened the fridge and poured some ice into his cup. Like they weren’t in the middle of someone else’s house.
Then Minho leaned even closer. “God, you’re so red in the face, it’s almost cute.” He smiled and Jisung nearly felt his muscles moving. “Good luck with your search. Maybe try someone who’s not already a pain in your ass.” And with that, he disappeared into the chaos.
Jisung stood frozen, vodka on his shoe, face on fire. And absolutely no idea how to process what the fuck had just happened.
***
The lecture was hell. Up-coming group work, a boring topic, a hangover and Monday. The combination that sent Jisung right to the ninth circle of hell.
He didn't find the love of his life the other day. Shame. But luckily, he found a way home where he had the place for himself, Minho nowhere to be found. Not that he would do much, he just showered and fell asleep half hanging out of bed.
His tactic was lousy, his social skills and his alcohol tolerance were his enemies and he should know better than trying to fight them out there at a freaking party.
So, still in the middle of mild vodka poisoning he downloaded Grindr. A better way for a socially awkward loser to make a move.
At this point, it could be anyone. Anyone who is capable and gentle enough, someone who listens and cares about his priorities too. Not that he knew what priorities in sex he had. As touch starved as he was, he didn’t even have to know the person's name.
He paid little to no attention to the lecture. The professor was currently discussing the politics of some random European countries Jisung had no interest in with the teacher's pet, and those conversations usually had no ending.
So he pulled out his phone and surprisingly there were three matches already. He picked the guys carefully, paying attention to their profiles, searching for serial killer vibes. The usual stuff on-line.
The first guy was a bummer from the start. He didn’t even spell Jisung’s name correctly. The second one was a slow responder, but it didn’t matter because the third was actually nice. Nicely built, pro-athlete in the university league. Nice smile and he had a dog! Dog people were usually good people.
He decided to go for this Jay guy.
Jay:
What’s up, cutiepie?
Jisung:
hiii
hangover as hell, stuck in a lecture about Dutch politics or something
Jay:
lmao
sounds rough
no tulips or spliff?
Jisung:
unfortunately no, educational system failed me
this is my villain origin story
Jay:
let me make ur story better
wanna do something fun later?
Jisung:
depends on what “fun” means?
if it involves vodka i’m throwing hands
Jay:
no vodka
no politics
just you and me sweaty
gym date? 5 pm?
Jisung:
oh god
you wanna witness me exercising??
Jay:
hell yeah I do
i bet you’re cute when struggling
Jisung:
i’m always cute
Jay:
see? nothing to lose
i’ll teach you my stretching routine
let’s stretch you out, Jisunggg
Jisung:
this should be illegal
Jay:
is that a yes?
Jisung:
..fine
but don’t let me die
Jay:
no promises
As unbelievable as it was, Jisung had a date.
***
Jisung’s athletic skills were on par with his social skills. And with the little sleep and a lot of vodka still in his system, he regretted every step getting him closer to the place. A fucking gym date.
It smelled like testosterone and protein powder in there and the whole place was louder than he expected. A place where everyone looked better than him, full of machines he didn’t know the name of, nor how to use them, mirrors reflecting his awkward posture and people who would probably never try every cheesecake flavour in the nearest café with him.
Just in case he shared his location with Changbin, who strongly disapproved of Grindr, but hey, he already got a boyfriend and Jisung listened to his advice.
His sweatpants were hanging too low on his hips so he pulled his hoodie further down, adjusted his cap before taking the first steps for the person who was supposed to be his first ever hookup.
How the fuck do gym dates even work? Are they supposed to be chatting while working out?
Jisung was sure he would be out of breath before he could even say “hello.” Fuck.
His head was buzzing with all the things that could go wrong, and shit, it was gazilions. He picked up on his moves carefully, stepping over piles of sweaty clothes and protein shakes.
But there was no turning back, when Jay noticed him in the wall mirror about to …do what exactly? A huge dumbbell thingy with lots of weights was lying in front of him. The word “deadlift” appeared in Jisung’s mind, but he didn’t even know he had it in his vocabulary.
“Hey!” Jay abandoned his spot and walked over to him, all muscles and smiles. Nothing to be scared of. Right?
“Eh…. hi.”
“Knew you’d look even better in person.” Jay winked at him and because Jisung had no idea how to respond to that, he just got red. Not cutely-blushy-red, but lobster-trying-to-escape-the-pot-red.
“I…don’t really come here much.” Actually he wanted to say “I don’t know shit about this.” Meaning the gym and hookups.
Jay didn’t waste a second, reaching out his hand to Jisung as he proactively ordered: “C’mon, I’ll show you then, honey.”
Honey? Oh. Not sure how he felt about the immediate affection, he didn’t have time to process it all. His body was tugged through the space but his brain stayed at the entrance.
“We’ll start with something easy.”
Jisung tried to smile, but he gave up while steadying his hands. “Okay.”
They began with basic stretches - head, shoulder, arms,.. The definition of awkwardness stared at him back from the mirror.
It could be good, if nothing, at least he was doing his stiffened body a favour. But before they got to the torso Jay was basically glued to him, correcting his form, touching him not here and there, but everywhere. Adjusting his hips, brushing down his arm.
Soon enough not only his arm.
Fight or flight mode that Jisung immediately got into was almost palpable, his body tensed under Jay’s touch the more he laid his eyes and hands on him. And the more he did that, the more uncomfortable Jisung felt. And the more rigid he was, the more urge to touch and correct him Jay had.
Jisung’s head spinned, overwhelmed and overstimulated. The world wasn’t spinning right. It was just spinning.
“Hey.” Jisung muttered, shifting away from Jay’s touch. “I can do it.”
To which Jay only laughed. “Relax, I’m just helping.”
“I can do it on my own.” Jisung's attempt to make it stop was meek. “I’m fine.” But as if Jay didn’t hear him, he began to massage his shoulders, his fingers digging too deep it hurt.
“God, you’re so tense, baby, let me help you out.”
“I’m okay.” Jisung tried to shrug him off again, stressing to sound firm and steady in his words, but his body gave him out easily.
Jay stepped even closer, from behind it was a perfect place for him to whisper in Jisung’s ear. “You’re blushing agaain.”
Jisung took a step forward and turned. This was so wrong. “I’m… not sure this was a good idea.” He wanted to erase this whole situation out of his memory, disappear from the gym and the whole world also.
He took a step aside, trying to walk past the other, but Jay blocked his way. “You're kinda cute when you get shy.” Jay’s eyes travelled down to Jisung’s lips. And even further down where Jisung pulled at his hoodie.
“You know, we don’t have to stay here. We could get out and try something…” - a step towards Jisung - “sweeter.” To add the emphasis on the last word, Jay squeezed Jisung's cheeks together, forcing his lips into a perfect pout, while with the other hand he traced a lazy pathway down his abdomen.
Hell no.
Thankfully, Jay released him a second later, but that didn’t change the fact that Jisung’s whole mouth hurt, his vision got blurry and he knew if he didn’t get out of that hellhole right now, things would go terribly wrong.
“I’m good.” Jisung said, his voice trembling.
“C’mon, you’ll like what I planned."
“No…,” He tried to bypass him again, unsuccessfully, “I said that I’m…” He needed to get out - of this place, this life.
He pushed Jay away but his attempt was crappy, the mountain of muscles wouldn't move an inch. “I should go.” Jisung’s voice was high pitched like he just stepped on lego.
The only thing he saw before he closed his eyes shut was Jay reaching his hand towards him again and he prepared himself for yet another uninvited touch..
“He said he’s good.” A voice cut Jay’s movement in half like a blade and thankfully his arm swung back. “Back off.”
They both turned to the person.
And when Jisung blinked away the upcoming tears he saw.. Minho.
Towel around his neck, jaw tense, tank top damp with sweat. He didn’t move closer, he just stood there like the air in the room shifted in his advance.
Jisung stared at the floor, cheeks burning. It got worse and worse.
Jay snorted. “What the hell are you-”
“I said,” Minho interrupted him, still calm, still managed to look bored, “back. off.”
Jay scoffed, rolling his eyes. But thankfully he took the hint. Lifting his hands like Jisung was a cockroach he said: “Whatever, man. Hit me up when you’re less moody.”
Then he grabbed his stuff, didn’t bother to clean up the mess after himself and just like that - he was gone.
It’s okay. He’s gone. It’s okay.
Silence followed. Seconds passed when Jisung was focusing on his breathing, he was willing to make it steady again.
Please, please, don’t cry. Don’t cry.
He dared to look up after the weight of Jay’s presence finally dropped down and only now he was able to take the oxygen in and out properly again.
A water bottle was dropped into Jisung’s hands. “Here. You’re shaking.”
“I’m not.” He was.
Jisung took in the sight of the person he least expected to save him.
“Drink.” Minho ordered. It was his usual bossy tone, but the mocking was not there this time.
And because Jisung didn’t know what to do and he desperately needed someone to tell him, he obeyed. He took a sip, hoping for the liquid to wash away the lump in his throat. It worked, not fully, but at least he could meet Minho’s gaze.
He didn’t know if it was the water or Minho’s presence, but something settled in him. For once, there was no smug grin, smirk or teasing. He was… just there. Like he’d been watching the whole thing, like he noticed and cared enough to step in.
Jisung’s voice was small, when he realized that Minho stared back with no intention to leave him to his despair. “Thanks.”
Minho just shrugged. “Didn’t do it for you. I have a beef with him.” He pointed with his chin to the direction Jay disappeared in.
Ah, yes. That made sense. Why else would Minho have helped him?
Jisung handed the water bottle back to him, but Minho shook his head. “Keep it. Drink. Don’t pass out. And for fucks sake, find someone who stretches the right parts of you.”
Jisung blinked. The hand with the water bottle was shaking a little less. Somehow, he felt safer when he felt something real, something solid between his fingertips and so he brought the bottle to his chest and hugged it. He nodded then, silently.
“I’m gonna shower. Wait for me by the entrance.” Minho said and for once, Jisung didn’t do the exact opposite of his words.
***
Minho’s steps were fast and sharp, when he was pacing next to Jisung on the way back to their dorm room. Jisung had to half-jog to keep up with his strides.
And his roommate was visibly uneasy - brows furrowed and his whole body on alert. Jisung felt like a scolded kid walking beside his parent after getting in trouble. But at the same time… he felt oddly calm.
No one said a word for a long time. There was nothing to say. At some point, Jisung thought about apologizing, but he didn’t know what for. Plus, he knew if he opened his mouth, he might start crying. So he stayed quiet.
Minho’s phone buzzed and when he answered with a harsh “Yes?” Jisung almost flinched.
A muffed voice crackled through the speaker. Jisung couldn’t make out a word.
“I’m going to make it on time, don’t worry about me. I just need to drop off some stuff first.” With that, Minho hung up.
Jisung had a sinking feeling that the “stuff” was a reference to him. If he had felt bad earlier, now he felt like absolute shit.
Soon they reached the main door. Minho swung his gym bag off his shoulder and handed it to Jisung.
“Could you please take this upstairs, I’m late.” He said it matter-of-factly, without a hint of blame, but Jisung still sunk deeper into his hoodie.
How does it happen that his actions always cause problems to other people? Why is he like this? A burden, even to people who aren’t his friends.
“Yeah, of course.” He took the bag and immediately bent under the weight of it with a surprised “uh” escaping his mouth.
He caught Minho turning away, clearly trying to hide a smile - the first real hint of something lighter on his face. Or maybe he was just laughing at Jisung.
“Look…” Jisung adjusted the bag on his shoulder, hoping for some core strength, but shit was it heavy. “Thank you for everything. But you didn’t have to walk me back, you know.” Because really, he didn’t have to. Minho’s already done enough.
Minho just looked at him. His eyes sparkling with something that he was not able to translate. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet.
“What if he was waiting for you outside? What if he stalked you here? What if he tried something? What would you do?” Minho’s ears went red. “Alone? Defenseless? Against the guy twice your size?” He spoke calmly, but his body language betrayed him; tense, protective.
Jisung didn’t answer. Because he didn’t know. Because he was stunned by the fact that Minho thought these things through for him. When he was supposed to be the one responsible.
Jisung’s eyes flicked around, avoiding Minho’s figure and his face especially. Two trees he saw. A distant laughter he heard. The strap of Minho’s gym bag he felt.
A ritual of some sorts he was doing every time when the fog lifted up from his brain and it finally occurred to him what could be the actual outcome of his intentions.
Anxiety flared in his chest. “I’m sorry.” He finally managed to whisper.
Minho ran a hand through his hair. And Jisung understood the exasperation, he really did. He’d seen it before.
“Just…,” Minho said, his voice softer, “get inside.” To Jisung’s surprise, the smirk was back on his face. “And try not to break my bag. Or yourself.”
Yourself. “You.. do care? About me?”
Minho blinked, surprised. Then looked away. “You're loud, annoying and make terrible choices. Someone has to.”
It took a second for his words to reach Jisung’s ears. That’s why it took him so long to answer and so before he strode off, Minho added to the silence: “Get inside. And think before you do something.”
With the bag heavy on his shoulder and a heart heavy in his chest, Jisung somehow followed Minho’s order for the second time that day.
***
“I TOLD YOU IT WAS A BAD IDEA!” If the room was not sound proof, Changbin’s voice would surely be heard all around the campus.
Well … That’s what Jisung deserved after he told him the story. He conveniently left out the part about Minho though. It was too personal, maybe even embarrassing to admit that he was saved by someone who he swore to be hating for the rest of his life.
“What did you think??”
“Me? What did he think? Harassing me with all the people around? Are you victim-blaming me?”
“The people around were mostly men! And yes I am!”
Jisung pouted. The support he hoped for was nowhere to be found from Seo Changbin.
“Jesus, Jisung…” Changbin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, but flopped down beside Jisung.
Jisung must’ve looked extra pathetic, because his friend wrapped his huge arms around him and pulled him into a side hug.
“Should I beat the shit out of him?” He came closer to Jisung’s ear, whispering and squeezing tighter. Jisung smiled despite himself.
“Thanks, but no.” A familiar warmth spread through him. Someone had his back. Someone would fight for him. Someone who wasn’t his roommate.
“You sure? You look like a run-over squirrel.”
“Thanks.” Jisung didn’t even try to hide his sarcasm and pursed lips.
“Flattened like a pancake. No one’s gonna want your nuts.”
Jisung pushed him off, huffing. “Yeah, you’re right. No more dates for me.” He sighed. “Looks like I’m gonna make lousy virgin music for the rest of my life.”
It was inevitable at this point. He was born to make the world a loud place, but with nothing more than a few scrapes of love.
To which Changbin didn’t answer. He just.. sat straight.
Alerted, looking at Jisung like he just solved a wicked problem.
Oh no.
Jisung was familiar with this type of energy. Changbin was thinking of something. Knitting a plan. Jisung could almost see the wires connecting and the smoke coming up from his head.
“No.. Bin, I’m emotionally exhausted. Done with people for a while.”
“Wait..” Changbin raised his hand to shush him. “I’m thinking.”
“Oh my God..” Everytime Changbin was coming up with a solution, it always ended up complicated and eventually crazy.
Jisung was ready to say no immediately, but his curiosity stopped him.
“Okay, maybe I got something for you.” Changbin’s smile was brighter than thousands of Suns. Shit.
“Oh no. No, no, no, no.”
“Or someoonee.” He sang. “Someone gooood.”
“Yeah, right, now you’re a match-maker? Why didn't you do it earlier, huh? You know, before you let me go for a free tantric massage?” - “Hey, I told you it was a bad idea!” - “You have plenty of queer friends!” Jisung waved his arms.
“Yeah, but none of them is good enough for you.”
Okay, weirdly sweet of Changbin. Jisung calmed down a bit. “I don’t need a relationship, all I need is to get laid.”
“Well, yes, but still you need someone who’s not an asshole. Someone respectful with decent forearms. And I think I can make it happen.”
Jisung sighed again. He didn’t even know if he wanted to make something happen after all the bullshit. He already exhausted all of his social battery on useless tries and wrong people.
But still. He was curious. “And.. Who is that?”
“I won’t tell you yet. Need to discuss it with him first. But he’s handsoome,” Changbin blinked like he had stubborn stye, “he’s strong,” he raised an eyebrow, “and he has three cats at home.”
Like Jisung was a cat person.
***
Jisung wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
After the failed attempts and the trauma caused at the gym, he was even more careful with every interaction.
And the roommatism with Minho was somehow… better? Well, Minho was not bitching around for a couple of days. They still weren’t friends or anything like that. It was just mutual tolerance.
That’s when Changbin’s little masterplan kicked into motion.
A message popped up on Jisung’s phone when he was for once alone in their room, his bed too comfy for doing schoolwork.
Unknown number:
Hey.
Changbin’s friend here. Call me Bunny.
Jisung’s stomach did a nervous flip. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, just a text…but something about it felt strange. Because they both knew the purpose of this interaction.
But it was Changbin’s friend. Right? So Jisung decided to give it a shot. For experience. For his music. Not because he was horny of course.
Jisung:
uuh hi?
Bunny? who am I, Alice in Wonderland?
Bunny:
Only if you’re brave enough to fall down the rabbit hole.
Jisung stared at the message for a second. Okay.. weirdly flirty? He hesitated.
Jisung:
you got a real name?
Bunny:
Of course I do Sungie, but for you I’m Bunny.
Jisung:
wait, you know mine but I call you Bunny…
Bunny:
It’s part of the deal, if any will happen.
Jisung:
what kind of deal?
what are you up to?
Bunny:
Depends on what you are up to.
If it’s dinner and awkward small talk, I’m the wrong guy. But if you’re open to something simple, safe and satisfying, we could make a great team.
Jisung:
simple and safe sounds better than awkward and sweaty
just got out of a very cursed gym date experience
Bunny:
Then you’re lucky, I don’t do dates.
Or cursed.
Okay. Okay, maybe this was heading the right way after all. Maybe Jisung just wasn’t the type for an actual relationship with dates, flowers, deep talks and shit.
Jisung:
but do you do…people like me?
Jisung’s anxious gears started to whirl again in his brain. What exactly did Changbin tell him? Was it enough? Or was it too much?
Bunny:
Absolutely.
A little cute desperate virgin is exactly my type.
Jisung:
so you have a virgin kink
Bunny:
No, I have a kink for tiny potatoes in Balmain hoodies.
Jisung:
Changbin showed you???
A mirror selfie of himself popped up in Jisung’s mind. Oh jesus.
Bunny:
He did. You’re cute.
And you didn’t block me, so you’re interested.
Jisung:
maybe I am, so what’s up with that now?
Bunny:
Just so we’re clear - I don’t play games. If we do this, it’s mostly on your terms.
Jisung:
mostly?
Bunny:
I do have a few requests.
Request. Okay, what would that be? Wear a bunny cosplay outfit?
Jisung:
hit me
Bunny:
If we meet, it’s for intimacy. No need for further information, no small talk.
Full anonymity for me - you won’t know who I am, your eyes are covered and I stay silent, no talking during.
We discuss everything here beforehand. Boundaries, likes, dislikes.
You say stop and I’ll stop. Any time. No pressure. No judgement.
I respect you and you respect me. Everything always consensual.
Jisung:
wow… didn’t expect a deadass contract
Bunny:
Think of it more like… guidelines for a good time. No awkwardness. Just exactly what we agreed on.
Jisung:
you sound kinda hot when you’re mysterious and responsible
Bunny:
That’s me.
So, you’re in?
Jisung:
how do I know you’re not a creep?
Bunny:
You don’t.
But I’m offering you myself as someone who’ll take care of you without expecting anything in return.
And you can be
well, just you. No pretending. No try-harding.
Jisung:
wow, full analysis and we didn’t even fuck yet
Bunny:
You’re in, Sungie?
Jisung:
it’s not fair that you know who I am a I just got a lousy nickname
Bunny:
You’d fall in love with me if you knew more.
Jisung:
wow the confidence
I’m in
Bunny:
Good. Now be a good boy and get yourself a blindfold.
A blindfold. What the fuck he was doing?
Jisung locked his phone and tossed it beside him. How to respond to that?
The last words made his core ache with familiar greed. Full of promise, low and deliberate. Shit. Now be a good boy..
He had no idea what this guy looked like and still the tone he spoke to him woke up the sensations he knew well enough.
A blindfold. Jisung closed his eyes for a brief moment. For science, of course. Pictured himself being at someone else’s mercy without seeing a thing, his skin the only narrator of the story. Fuck… A well known motion was happening in his pants. That’s how easy it was to get him off.
Maybe he still has some time before Minho comes back….
He reached down under the sheets, getting ready for a sweet game he played with himself way too often.
“Someone’s blushing.” Hit Jisung to the face after his head consumed by the conversation with Bunny shot up and saw Minho at the door.
Oh c’mon.
But shit, was he? Probably yes.
So much for his release. Can’t a man jerk off in peace for once?
He groaned loudly and yanked the comforter over his face. Just in case, since his semi was already not for public viewing.
“Don’t even start.” Frustrated from the unsatisfied heat he felt and Minho needed to know better to leave him alone.
“Found your prince Charming already?”
Jisung peeked from under his duvet fortress just to get a glimpse of Minho’s back slouching over his bed and shuffling with his beloved gym bag. The one that miraculously survived Jisung’s babysitting.
“No offense, since you basically saved me earlier, but that’s still none of your business."
Minho turned to him and smirked. “Right. But don’t call me, when you have your princess-in-despair-moment again.”
Jisung threw a pillow after him, which Minho dodged almost perfectly with a smile. “I don’t even have your number.”
Jisung could swear Minho’s eyes sparkled. Weird.
Blindfold. Fuck. Jisung’s mind was still elsewhere with Bunny. He needed some alone time.. like, now.
“I’m gonna take a shower.” - “I’m gonna shower now.” They both said at the same time.
“I said it first!” Jisung pouted.
“No, you didn’t.”
He didn’t.
“Then,” Jisung slowly got to his feet, careful to hide his core, eyeing the space for his towel, “I’ll be there first!” He snatched it from the back of a chair and sprinted towards the bathroom door-
-only to be stopped by a huge pair of thighs swooshing past him and Minho’s arm blocking his way by taking up the handle.
“Hey!”
Minho looked amused, when he lazily turned to him. “Or you could just go with me.” He slowly opened the door for him. A silent invitation that sent goosebumps over Jisung’s whole being. “I don’t mind sharing.” Minho’s words were sweet as honey, but Jisung knew better.
“You’re so fucking weird." He turned around to grab his pillow from the ground, hearing Minho’s laugh disappearing behind the bathroom door.
But Jisung’s virgin problems were about to be solved soon with a person that’s not giving him freak energy (despite his requests) and so Minho could take a shower first, no worries.
***
Jisung called Changbin. For no particular reason, just to chat with his friend, right? Definitely not for sneaking around to get more information about his new love interest.
“So… How old is he?”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
“Because it’s embarrassing? Just tell me something about him. He’s all mysterious and “keep it casual, you’re gonna be blindfolded” and shit.”
Jisung heard Changbin’s laugh. “If those are his preferences, maybe you should stop sneaking behind his back.”
“You’re not very helpful right now. Are you even my friend?” Jisung furrowed at his blank laptop screen, where he was supposed to be working on an assignment.
“Look, Jisung, I can tell you, he’s so into you. It’s gonna be fine. And he’s… how do I put this…,” His friend's voice was now a little muffled like he stepped away from the mic. “Hyunjin, jagi, how do I say politely that someone fucks good?”
Jisung pinched the bridge of his nose. Jesus.
He was about to hang up, pretending that those words didn’t cause a whole volcano of blood rushing to a certain part of his body.
Hyunjin’s voice was distant, but Jisung could still hear him. “Just say that he’s good at sending people to heaven.”
“Yeah, that’s good. Love you, my poetic little ferret.” A smacking sound was heard and Jisung cringed at the thought of Changbin sending air kisses to his boyfriend.
“He’s good at sending people to heaven. So I’ve heard at least.” Satisfaction was almost palpable in Changbin’s voice.
“So a serial killer you and your ferret say.” Jisung facepalmed.
“Jisung, just shut up, trust me and get yourself fucked.”
A sudden ruffle sounded from the other side and Hyunjin’s voice was now loud and clear when he said: “Why don’t you talk to me like that?”
Jesus!
The whole call was clearly a mistake.
“Sungie, sorry, gotta go.” Without saying as much as a goodbye, Changbin hung up.
Jisung laid in bed, his laptop on his lap, the screen dimmed. Thinking about the mess his life was before, and the mess it was about to become.
He could swear somewhere in the distance Changbin threw Hyunjin in the sheets.
Maybe his nights will be similar soon. So he could create the music he always wanted. One that speaks and glows and is based on something real.
It was late. Like, late late. A new day already.
Minho still wasn’t back. Which was none of Jisung’s business, he didn’t care. He shouldn’t care.
But he did picture him at one of the parties that constantly happened around the campus, not being socially awkward, making his unicorn-piss drinks, getting new friends, having a love life, …
God, he hated that he was jealous. He hated that Minho was maybe right with all the teasing. Maybe Jisung really was a caveman with a SoundCloud account.
He was tired, but he could not sleep. Tossing around in his bed didn’t help. The ceiling mocked him, his thoughts were playing tag and the whole room now felt like a prison.
Two in the morning. Minho still not present.
Is he sleeping elsewhere tonight? Maybe he found himself a hookup. Good for him. Jisung was tired. Tired of his warmed up pillow, his tightening blanket, his buzzing head.
Down the hall was a shared kitchen and sometimes people left snacks in the shared basket on the counter. It was an unwritten contract of the inhabitants, since the student life was not really gainful and they had to fight for every calorie and ounce of carbohydrate when school was too tough.
Off the room he went, his slippers the only sound in the depopulated hallway.
When he reached the kitchen, he paused.
Someone was in there, judging by the dim light coming from the ajar door.
He considered getting back to his room and coming back later, but then he saw, through the little crack, the familiar leather jacket.
He opened the door, suddenly in a weirdly thrilled state that he was about to see Minho. Shit, wasn’t he desperate…
“Hi.” Jisung came in, a minion caught between a nap and a verge of breakdown, in his navy blue pajamas, his hair a mess and his mind even bigger.
It seemed like Minho was…casually cooking something. He turned to him with a knife in one hand and an onion in the other.
“Oh…hi.” Jisung couldn’t tell if he was bothered by Jisung coming in or if he was just surprised.
“I’m just here for some snacks. Won’t be bothering you.” He walked over to the bowl, grabbed a pack of crisps … or was it peanuts? Or cookies? … and wanted to just bolt away, when Minho asked: “Can’t sleep?”
He was chopping the onion with precise movements, like he was about to attend a Gordon Ramsay show. Since when does he know how to cook?
Jisung hesitated for a while. He could snap at him, tell him to shut up, as usual, but this time he wasn’t in the mood for being bratty and mean.
“No.”
“Me neither. I cook when there’s so much to think about.” Said Minho and dumped some noodles into boiling water on the stove. Like he knew what precisely is going on in Jisung head.
Jisung must’ve been really tired, because he went for an honest answer. “I make music. But there’s nothing worthy of putting into a song now in my life.”
He was surprised by his own words. It was somehow easy to confide in Minho's back. When he was busy enough to care. When he was probably not even listening to him.
Minho’s movements were sure, every chop and mix of the ingredients was calculated, like he was dancing and the food was his partner. It was hard not to stare in awe.
“Play something.” Minho said just like that, like he just didn’t knock the breath out of Jisung. “If you want.” He added after a brief pause.
What? “You want to listen to my music?”
Minho turned around, looking flushed from the steam coming out of the pot, but sent a reassuring look to Jisung's way. “Yeah.” Just like that.
Like he didn’t just ask for his whole world, his internal monologues, fears and demons. Like it was a playlist.
Well…technically, it was.
Before he knew what he was doing, Jisung grabbed his phone and only briefly hesitated before he found the last actually arranged and recorded song. It was a few months old. One song wouldn’t hurt. He hoped so.
He lowered the volume so his rapping wouldn’t wake up the whole building, but since they both stayed quiet, the words, the phrasing, the melody, the beats,... everything was loud and clear.
Jisung was speaking and he didn’t even open his mouth.
Minho was satisfied with what he had been making, while he let it cook and steam he turned around and leaned against the kitchen unit, face expression unreadable until the song ended.
Then he nodded and just said: “Another one?”
So Jisung scrolled down a little, still not being entirely sure what he was willingly doing, and set up another of his songs.
“This one was the first one that actually made it to the recording booth.” He chuckled. “I was so proud of it, but now when I hear the lyrics, it’s a mess.” No idea why he was overexplaining. Maybe he had the urge to give Minho some context. Music is always better with context. “I used to be a wannabe badass.”
He let the song play to the half, already scrolling through his phone searching for something less painful to his ears.
“Oh! This one!” He started another. “This one was a bait I lost with Changbin. My friend.” The melody was soft and slow, but his rapping was rapid and rough, like he wanted to sound unintelligible.
He didn’t even look at Minho, suddenly consumed by his previous work which he hadn’t heard in a while. Nostalgia washed over him, he remembered the times he wrote those pieces. The places, the emotions he put into them.
Then one song stuck out. He was avoiding it for a long time. Like it was a plague. But now, when he was sleep deprived and nothing really mattered he hit the play button.
The first tones of Alien started to linger around, to every corner of the room. Filling up the space - the anxiety, the low-selfesteem, the burdens and loneliness.
When the song ended he didn’t play any other. He just stared down at Minho’s feet, planted to the ground.
“I wrote this when I discovered I’m gay.” He whispered, because there was no need to speak normally when everything around was still and quiet.
Minho took a step forward.. Then another. Then he made Jisung look up at him, gently tipping his chin up between his fingers.
“I’m so sorry.” They were never this close. Not like this, not in a moment that was actually nice.
“No need to be sorry I’m pretty cool with my gay ass now.” Jisung tried to sound nonchalant, casual like every one of those words didn’t burn another hole into his heart.
Minho didn’t move, still keeping the strange proximity between them. “No, I meant…,” he looked around, “I’m sorry for shit-talking your music. It’s actually good.”
Jisung’s eyes widened. At the compliment and at the fact that he heard it from Minho’s mouth. He was shocked. And pleased. And soft. And tired.
“Really?” He pouted.
Minho watched his mouth form the perfect heart like he was deciding what to do next. Then he said: “It speaks to people. It’s real and relatable. You’re doing a good job.”
Jisung blinked at him, searching for any hint of mocking.
But there was none. Just a pair of pure brown eyes staring into his soul, now naked after he heard his art.
“Now move.”
Oh?
Jisung was yanked from that sweet moment before he even could say thank you. His perplexed look must’ve given him away, because Minho added: “You’re standing in my way, I need the bowls.”
“Oh..” Jisung stepped aside, throwing his phone into his pocket.
Minho was calm as he pulled out two bowls and started plating the food.
Wait, two bowls?
Something occurred to Jisung. “Hold on, you’re expecting someone?”
Shit.. it was obvious. Minho staying up this late because he had a meeting! Or date.. or hookup. Or whatever. Cooking a deliciously smelling ramyeon for them and Jisung just got in their way.
But Minho only scrunched his eyebrows, confused. “No?”
Jisung didn’t say a word but his eyes drifted back to the bowls.
“It’s for you, paboya.” Minho stated, pushing the steaming late night dinner towards him.
“Wait..you cooked for me?”
“Yeah, real food is better than the fats you just stuffed your pockets with.”
“You? Cooked for me?” Jisung repeated, suspiciously.
“Stop making a villain out of me, Jesus." Minho set down chopsticks for both of them. “Sit.”
Jisung sat across from Minho when the smell hit his nose. God, he was hungry.
“To be fair, you kinda are.”
“I’m not.”
“You are!”
“Fine, I’ll be your villain. But the sexy kind.”
Jisung chuckled. Funny. “You’re always mean to me. It’s unusual.”
“You’re just easy to bully.” Jisung saw Minho’s lips tugging upwards.
“I’m not!” He reached for the chopsticks a little too quickly, sending them clattering to the floor.
Minho’s eyebrow shot up. See? As if he was saying.
“I meant to do it.”
“Sure.” Minho hummed in response, amusement radiating from his every word, handing him a new pair of cutlery. “Enjoy. And don’t get used to it.”
“Too late.” Jisung grinned, twirling noodles. He took one bit and immediately moaned through a full mouth. Shit, it was delicious. Criminally good. The type of food his mom would want a recipe for. “Mhmmhhh!!” His mouth was on tasty fire, cheeks poking out, stuffed completely. “It’s so good!”
It was spicy and sweet at the same time. An epitome for their relationship.
He might imagine that, but he saw Minho smiling for himself and shaking his head.
***
Before they went to sleep, both lying on their backs with phones in hand, silence felt strangely pleasant. Jisung was comfortably tired, his belly full and his mind stopped making backflips. He still couldn’t believe that he and Minho casually ate together.
The darkness around made Jisung ask maybe the stupidest question in the world, but hey, Minho judged him enough anyway.
“Totally random question… Don’t you know where a person can get a blindfold?”
“And you call me weird…. “
A beat.
“Anything can be a blindfold. A tie, a scarf. Or one of those weird headbands you wear when you’re doing skincare.”
Jisung thought about it. His Winnie the Pooh headband was not exactly the sexiest thing ever.
“Do you have a spare tie?”
“Why? What do you need a blindfold for?”
“I’m cosplaying a blind person for Halloween. Wanna be authentic.”
“That’s the worst lie I’ve ever heard.”
Yeah, it probably was.
There was a pause as Jisung hesitated with what he could tell Minho. Ah, screw it.
“I…met someone. To help me with the virgin situation.”
“You’re impossible.” Minho groaned.
“But… he’s into blindfolded twinks apparently, so I need one.”
“Jesus Christ, Jisung-aah….” Jisung heard a rustle of bedsheets as Minho probably sat up. “You really just… meet a stranger who wants you blindfolded and go Yeah, that sounds totally safe? I won’t be lending you my stuff for your freaky sessions.”
“Hey! He’s my friend's friend!”
“What’s his name?”
“I don’t really know.”
“You don’t even know his name…”
“No, but it doesn’t matter, it’s casual. No attachments, just sex. He doesn’t want to be…recognized. So I have to be blindfolded.”
A longer silence followed.
“Okay. I’ll lend you my tie. But under one condition.”
“I won’t be carrying your gym bag around for you.”
“Two conditions.”
“Minho!”
Minho laughed under his breath. “You’ll let me walk you over to him.”
“Why?”
“Just in case.”
“No.. why do you care?”
“I already told you. Someone has to.”
***
The day had come. The first session with Bunny was awaiting Jisung in less than an hour and he was already showered, dressed up and pacing between beds.
Nervous but full of expectations, his head was buzzing again. He was sweating.
He should shower again. Shit.
The day prior he chatted with Bunny. They discussed what would happen, the place, the time, and the fact that Jisung should come in first and get the blindfold on. Bunny would leave the first.
The gestures. From Bunny’s side - tapping Jisung’s arm two times signalized stopping, squeezing two times was meant to be for “more.” It was weirdly thrilling, sending blood rushing to various parts of Jisung’s body.
Jisung spiraled to Bunny about his nervousness and Bunny, as the good listener as he was, reassured him while also discussing his own preferences and that was the best part of it. The consent. Jisung knew what to expect, therefore he knew what to prepare himself for.
First session - the exploration. Nothing explicitly sexual yet, just introducing themselves to each other, deepening the physical intimacy without any pressure.
They agreed on an hour for that.
Jisung had the advantage of using his voice, so he could manage the tempo.
Seriously, Jisung. I’m the one to be silent, you don’t have to. Actually I wanna know what’s going on inside that pretty head of yours, so feel free to tell me everything. Say what you want me to do.
They haven’t agreed on a safe word yet, because Jisung couldn’t pick one, but Bunny quickly assured him that “Stop” would work just fine.
So now Jisung was waiting for Minho, who was supposed to walk him to the on-campus guesthouse, a place usually used by temporary visitors, researchers and faculty members.
Jisung didn’t know how, but Bunny was somehow able to “book” them a room there. It should not be suspicious to linger here because some students were placed there temporarily before the college found a free room in the dorms.
Clean place, quiet and private. The entrance should be locked but according to Bunny it was not and room 1409 was supposed to be open as well.
Jisung suddenly saw the hazard he was putting himself in and started bombarding Bunny with questions.
What if someone asks me what I’m doing there?
How do I find the room?
What if it’s locked after all?
Every one of them was easily answered.
Good. It’s gonna be good.
Jisung took a deep breath when Minho walked in on him standing in the middle of the room, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans.
“Can’t wait?” He was probably at the gym again, because he tossed the bag on his bed with a loud thud, observing Jisung’s outfit and sneakers already on in the process.
Jisung’s body unwinded at the sight of him.
Because he was not alone with his thoughts anymore, that’s why, no other reason.
“I think I’m gonna fuck it up.”
Minho raised an eyebrow and pointed to Jisung’s bed. “Sit.” He ordered softly.
Jisung dropped onto the mattress without any protest. Minho sat across from him, elbows on his knees, studying him.
“Okay. What exactly are you planning to mess up? Let’s make a list.”
Jisung groaned. “I don’t know! Everything.” Jisung threw his arms around like that should cover all the things bickering inside his head. “You know me. What if I trip over something? What if I knock something over? I won’t see shit! Jesus, what if I knock him over?”
Minho was fighting a smile, Jisung could tell, and he wanted to be angry about it, but at the same time it sounded so bizarre coming out of his mouth that soon enough he was fighting his smile as well.
“Well, that would be one way to make an impression.”
“Are you enjoying this?” Jisung frowned at him.
“A little bit.” Minho leaned back, grin pulling at his lips. “No, I get you. What if you accidentally touch his hemorrhoid instead of his dick, right?”
Jisung stared at him, adding the scenario to the bunch of which he hadn't had time to think about yet. But… he chuckled at the thought. He chuckled some more, until something unexpected sounded through the room. His own laugh. Heartwarming, silly and loud. “God, you’re so weird.”
Minho was smiling wide at him. Like…actually smiling. With lips reaching the both sides of his face and wrinkles framing his eyes. Almost fondly, Jisung thought.
“You’ll be okay.” Minho stated like it was a fact. “Sex is full of those things.”
“What things?”
“Of nonsense. Of discovering. A weird mess. You’re doing something and then getting back two steps. Sometimes you giggle, sometimes you stop because someone has a cramp or you accidentally elbow them in the face.”
“That’s literally my fear.” Jisung muttered, but hands down, something about Minho’s words settled the flood of anxiety in him. Like Minho had built a dam.
Jisung's brain wandered to the love life of his that practically never existed. “I don’t know anything about it.”
“You don’t, so I’m telling you. You’ll be just fine.” To which Jisung nodded after several seconds of repeating those words in his head.
Minho stood up, walked over to his closet and shuffled with his folded shirts.
“Take your blindfold.” He handed Jisung a black tie. Simple and silky, yet somehow screaming “you’re gonna be almost fucked today.”
“Thanks.”
The material was soft when Jisung touched it. He had no idea how he would tie it from behind, but that was a problem for his future self.
“I’ll take a shower.” Minho grabbed his towel.
“Okay.. But don’t be long, what if I need to throw up?”
“You won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Jesus, Jisung!”
Now that was Minho who threw a pillow in his direction and with an awful precision hit the target.
***
They walked across the campus in silence. Not awkward, but somehow charged with something.
It was a little past ten, the autumn nights started to feel chilly, so they both shoved their hands into their pockets, soft crunches underneath their feet the only reminder that it’s real.
Jisung couldn’t believe where he was headed. And with whom. His sworn enemy and his first hookup date. What a turn of events. But suddenly… Jisung realized how glad he was that he’s not making this all alone.
Just in case Jisung texted Bunny before they left: Be there in ten. To which Bunny replied: Can’t wait.
You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. Was stuck on a loop in Jisung’s brain. Minho’s words, not his. But somehow he trusted Minho now and he clinged to this guarantee with his whole being.
When they reached the right building, Jisung slowed, staring up at the guesthouse as if it might start to glow. He shivered and it was not because of the cold weather. It was anticipation and nervousness in the air he breathed.
“So.” Jisung faced Minho. “Thanks for walking me.”
“You’re welcome.” Minho said easily, rocking back and forth on his heels.
Jisung never realized how big Minho’s eyes actually were. Now when the light from the nearest lamppost fell on his face, thousands of stars were bursting in them. And with the dark hair framing his face, sharp jawline inviting to touch, he looked almost… beautiful.
“Have fun, Jisungie.”
Jisung blinked from surprise. Minho never talks to him like this? Never gives him nicknames.
“I…..”
“Don’t elbow him in the face, yeah?” Minho chuckled. “Or run into a wall. Or touch his hemorrhoid.”
“Why are you saying those things out loooud?” Jisung groaned again, he lost count already. Minho only laughed softly.
“Be safe. If you’re feeling weird, just run away.”
“I’m already feeling weird.”
“Ok, let’s run away.”
Jisung smiled. “You go first, I’ll catch up.”
“Okay.” And just like that, Minho began to jog away. Weird-ass guy.
Jisung was alone.
Well. Yeah, that’s it.
That’s it.
He turned back to the building, muttering to himself: “You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”
The inside was not very different from their dorms, just plain walls tuned into university colours, not much decorations.
Still as if it screamed at Jisung. You don’t belong here. You’re an alien.
He ignored it like he ignored Changbin’s loud chewing.
He found the room pretty easily, it was on the first floor.
1409.
One last deep breath, one last you’ll be okay and he let himself in.
***
He was surprised when he found the light switch with no problem. The room was not much different from their dorms. Same cheap desk, although this one was not overflowing with Minho’s stuff, same overpainted walls. The only thing Jisung envied was a king-size bed, neatly made up for him. Them.
Oh.
Jisung switched on the lamps on both bedside tables and turned off the sharp ceiling light. Just for the vibe. Not that it mattered much, because he still wouldn’t see shit. He even took off his shoes. Maybe Bunny would appreciate this little detail.
Okay. Okay, let’s do this.
He pulled out Minho’s tie from his pocket where he clutched it the whole time. Now it was wrinkly and warm, like a comfort toy. He still had a few minutes before Bunny was supposed to come.
The word “bizzare” was flashing in neon lights in his mind.
He wasn’t that desperate.. Or was he?
He was just a guy trying. And trying was better than doing nothing.
And Bunny was Changbin’s friend, right? And Jisung trusted Changbin with his life, always had.
It was gonna be okay.
The thing Jisung was most scared of in the world was not knowing. However, with his life passing by he got kinda used to it. Question marks in his life that shall never be answered, he just shoved them to the depth of his soul, forgetting them, but never entirely. And this Bunny was a fresh one, bright red written in bold.
But it. was. gonna. be. okay.
Jisung forced himself to believe it, despite his nerves prickling and pushing him out, back to his comfort zone. The lonely zone. Inexperienced.
He took one last deep breath, playing with the tie in his shaky hands like a fidget toy.
His future self, now his present self, was not exactly thrilled with past Jisung’s decision not to test the blindfold beforehand. No backing out, he closed his eyes, fingers fumbling with the silky material as he tried to tie it behind his head. The first knot was too loose, it slipped off the second he tried to move his head experimentally.
Nevermind, again. Two knots this time and make it tight.
And then… It was dark. Nothing but pitch black-consumed his vision. Just like Bunny intended.
He was blindfolded. Yay!
He shivered slightly, because only now it hit him. The pathway of his decisions leading him to waiting for someone to finally fill up his hunger and touch him. And he couldn’t see shit. It was weirdly exciting, all the other senses slowly intensifying - the smell, his hearing and especially the touch. His body buzzed, maybe ready? God knows for what.
He sat on the edge of the bed, hands in his lap like a patient waiting for his doctor - hopefully a sexy one, when he heard a click of the door opening. He flinched and his breath got stuck in his throat.
Here goes nothing.
“Uh.. hi.” He cleared his throat. Not that he expected Bunny to answer, but it seemed rude to not say hello plus his voice filled up the unbearable silence. It stretched for a while anyway. As if Bunny too was not sure about what the hell is going on. Or maybe he was just taking his sweet time.
But Jisung was certain that his new partner knew exactly what he was doing, when he heard his soft steps coming closer and soon enough felt the mattress dip beside him under the weight of another person’s body. There was a squeak. Jisung wasn’t sure if it was the bed frame or himself.
It was strange. His head stuck in a loop of you’re gonna be okay, the nervousness laced with expectations and adrenaline of experiencing.
They were fully clothed, nothing happened yet and still Jisung’s pulse was racing. Is this what intimacy felt like?
“I did a double knot, just so you know.” Jisung pointed to his eyes.
A beat passed with no reply obviously. In his head, he recalled Bunny’s instructions from before: Say what you want me to do.
It was him who could set the rhythm to this. And they only had one hour.
“You… could hold my hand for the start. If that’s okay.” Jisung wiped his hand on his jeans and let it slide into the space between them, not knowing where the courage emerged from.
A warm, soft palm found his soon enough. Comforting. Confident.
Bunny laced their fingers together like it was his second nature. As if he couldn’t wait. His thumb stroked gentle circles into Jisung’s skin. Inviting, asking for more.
Jisung squeezed him in return, giving him the permission. Or at least he meant it like that.
Bunny slowly let go of his hand and to Jisung’s surprise, he already missed it. The tingling sensation it sent down his spine.
A fingertip traced his forearm, a slow, teasing pathway along Jisung’s whole arm, sending goosebumps all over his body.
He smiled. Yeah. That was easy. Pretty easy.
Bunny was taking his sweet time. Calculating his movement carefully. Tracing Jisung’s elbow to shoulder to neck. Jisung melted with each gentle pass, craving more. It was only one finger and it made him feel thousands of things at the same time.
“When’s my turn?” Jisung asked quietly, when his impatience won the battle inside of him. Somehow, the stranger sitting beside him felt almost familiar.
Bunny replied with a tap on his cheek. Jisung didn’t know what it meant, but he didn’t have to worry because Bunny took Jisung’s hand and guided it. Right to the center of his chest. Right where Bunny’s heart was beating, in the same frantic rhythm as his own. Strong and hot.
Jisung felt the pounding through the layer of Bunny’s clothes and it was almost… errotic. Feeling the heat of his body, letting it fill him up to the brim.
Jisung let out a breath.
“May I..” He didn’t even know what he wanted to ask for. He just felt like asking.
But Bunny wrapped his delicate fingers around his wrist, leading his splayed out palm up to his left shoulder. Right shoulder, down the arms… Then he let go.
Explore. As if he challenged him.
And oh Jisung was so ready.
Bunny was clearly a well built person. Soft, but solid. Like a sculpture carved in stone. He felt a muscle here and there, but it was a tender kind. He imagined himself biting the skin and tasting it. Just once.
That was just a part of his virgin curse, he said to himself. It didn’t take much to get his body excited.
He reached for Bunny’s face slowly, but he gently stopped him.
Right, he needed to stay mysterious.
Then maybe some other direction would work?
Jisung bit his lip unconsciously when his hand was headed down to Bunny’s abdomen. Through the layer of fabric he felt Bunny tense, but he figured it was not the bad kind of tensing. His fingers brushed past his abs and reached his belt.
Bunny froze slightly, not pulling him away yet, but.. on guard. Like he needed a pause.
“You said… today’s for exploring right?”
A pair of knuckles caressed his cheek in response. Please, let it mean yes..
“Let me explore then. Please.” Jisung whispered, leaning deeper into the gentle touch.
Bunny didn’t answer in words, but he glued their hands together yet again.
“Your hands are shaking.” Jisung noticed, surprised and suddenly worried that he might have gone too far.
But then he felt Bunny tugging him forward, gently, but firmly guiding him onto his lap. He let himself be touched around his waist, manhandled and willingly straddled him.
A surprised “oh” escaped his mouth as he felt himself getting comfortable like it was his second nature, his thighs on each side of Bunny’s hips.
He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so just by touch he found Bunny’s shoulders and held onto them. “Hi.”
He felt Bunny’s hot breath on his face as he let out an amused huff.
“Don’t laugh at me, I’m learning!” He pinched his skin with a smile.
Not shy at all anymore. But hungry. Hungry for more.
As if Bunny had read his mind, he pulled him even closer, so their bodies were touching almost everywhere.
Yes. Yes, please.
Their chest and hips aligned and Jisung whimpered softly as his jeans got tighter. He felt Bunny’s hands slide up his waist, hot and painfully slow, enjoying every bit of him, leaving his skin burning at the contact. He stopped only to cup Jisung’s face, one thumb brushing his lower lip.
“Yes, kiss me.” Jisung breathed out, shocked by his own neediness. His boundaries fell down.
And Bunny did, just not on the lips. But everywhere else.
He was peppering kisses along his jawline, cheeks, nibbling at the skin of his chin. Featherlight and maddening and teasing. And Jisung just laughed at it, because it tickled and it was way sweeter than any kind of cheesecake he tried in his whole life.
“On the mouth now, will you?” Jisung whispered.
But Bunny just cupped his face and shook with his head no. To show him the answer.
“Why not?” Jisung whined softly. “We can touch dicks, but you won’t kiss me.” He pouted.
And because Bunny didn’t have his voice, he just briefly kissed the corner of Jisung’s mouth. Just enough to make the pout disappear.
“Okay.” Jisung wasn’t even subtle with his disappointment.
“What now?” Jisung wiggled in his lap, his semi making him uncomfortable already. And it was just proximity and a few kisses that did this to him. He wondered if Bunny could tell what he’d caused.
For him it was as easy as dancing, when he slipped under Jisung’s shirt, squeezing his waist and kissing his neck at the same time.
Okay, this was no longer exploring, this was hot. A mess. And Jisung met him halfway, when he reached between them, fumbling with Bunny’s belt.
“Yes, yes, please.” He moaned, angling his head, feeling Bunny’s hands all over his body.
He succeeded with unzipping Bunny’s pants as well, and that’s when Bunny did the same for him with precise motions while kissing the sweet spot just below his ear.
Shit.
Shit. Okay.
Jisung was fully hard already, just from the brief touches. By the time Bunny’s fingers were sliding his own jeans down, Jisung was trembling, his breath hitching in his throat to prevent him from the unholy moans at every brush of skin.
He was blind and aching and turned on more than he had ever been in his life.
Bunny lifted him up carefully with one hand - shit he was strong - while with the other slid his jeans off just under his butt.
The fabric of his boxers did nothing to hide how hard he was. Bunny’s touch wasn’t even explicit yet, but every second made his dick harder and harder.
“God.” Jisung gasped near Bunny's mouth, still marking him with kisses shamelessly. “I could come just from this.”
Bunny chuckled low in his chest, like a cat purring. Jisung tilted his head to give Bunny more space. It was a pure instinct, something animalistic built-in in his nature. He wanted more, needed more of those flames that Bunny lit up with every kiss.
Bunny’s hand slipped up his bare skin, splaying wide across his back, supporting him, while the other traced down and cupped him through his underwear.
The sound that came out of Jisung was half a whimper, half a groan. “Yes. Fuck, yes, please.”
Bunny squeezed gently, just enough to make Jisung bent forward. He was trembling now, clutching Bunny's shoulders.
He had never been touched like this. It was new, it was hot and it was addictive. Bunny made him feel like every part of his body was worth exploring.
Bunny’s fingers slipped under the waistband of his underwear. Just for a brief moment. Just to make Jisung ache.
“Oh God.. Don’t tease me.” Jisung whined into Bunny’s ear.
Bunny just hummed in response and pressed another kiss to his collarbone.
When Bunny touched him again, Jisung’s breath hitched. The fabric was peeled away painfully slow, until he was fully exposed, aching but with no sliver of embarrassment. Bunny paused, his warm hand now wrapped around him, firm and steady.
“Fuck.” Jisung breathed out, barely able to sit still. “This is… so fucking good.”
Which was the permission Bunny waited for. He started stroking him. Deliberately, like he was learning Jisung’s heartbeat with every motion.
And Jisung melted, rolling his hips into each stroke like his life depended on it. His mouth falling open, soft moans slipping down with each breath. His hands made an anchor of Bunny’s chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt, feeling his heart pounding in the same rhythm as his own.
Every stroke and brush of a thumb made him see stars, every twist of his wrist made his moans louder. Fuck, it was unbelieveable. He was in the dark calling, but this time someone answered. And he wanted to thank him for it.
“May I… May I touch you too?” He somehow managed to ask between hitched breaths.
Bunny didn’t waste a second, guiding Jisung’s own hand to his lifting hips, while taking himself out. Just like that, they were pressed together, like chopsticks in the packaging, skin to skin, heat to heat.
Jisung gasped at how hard Bunny felt, how easy this actually was when it was just his need speaking for him. He wrapped his hand around both of them, squeezed together in his palm. It was not big enough, it was clumsy and messy, but it was amazing.
Jisung cried out. Yes, yes, yes, there was nothing better in this whole world than this.
Bunny helped him with the strokes, their hands were tangled somewhere between up and down, stroking and squeezing, each one of them chasing the much needed friction.
Jisung didn’t even care who’s gonna come first, he just didn’t want it to stop. He was completely lost in the rhythms they settled on, the scent of sweat and sex, the muffled noises Bunny made against his neck were guiding him back to his own body.
At some point he fully pressed himself against him, leaving no more space between them. Rested his head on Bunny’s shoulder because he just didn’t have the strenght.
“Fuck.. I’m gonna… I…” He stuttered, not being able to make a whole sentence, his hand tired and in need of grasping, scratching something.
But Bunny just kissed his exposed neck and kept going mercilessly for both of them.
And that was it for him.
Jisung came with a loud moan, spilling himself God knows where, shaking with the convulsions of his orgasm in Bunny’s lap, his forehead pressed to his shoulder.
A beat later Bunny followed him, hips twitching, muffling his own grunts into Jisung’s skin. His arms locked tight around Jisung’s waist in the sticky mess they both have become.
Whoa.
They stayed like that for a second. Tangled together, catching their breaths. Jisung felt boneless and light as a feather, grateful for Bunny being the air that carries him away.
“Shit… This was so good. Thank you.” Jisung mumbled when his brain started to function again.
Bunny just pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, damp with sweat.
The afterglow from the orgasm washed away slowly and Bunny carefully unglued them.
“No, no.” Jisung protested, his voice a lazy whisper. He was warm, happy and blissfully tired and he wanted to stay like that for the rest of his life.
Bunny’s hands traced over his thighs before he scooped him up.
“Nooo.” Jisung pleaded, clinging to his neck like a spoiled baby.
And indeed, Bunny stopped, tightening his hold around his waist before he lifted them both up from the bed with ease. Jisung clung to him like a koala while Bunny adjusted his pants and carried him across the room. Jisung heard a shuffle with a piece of clothing - probably Bunny’s jacket or a hoodie and a rustle of a package. Wet wipes?
Still holding him, Bunny sat back down and began to clean both of them up thoroughly. Like it mattered to him.
If Jisung could, he would blink in surprise. He didn’t think about the mess, their probably ruined or stained clothes. And Bunny was so thoughtful and caring, wiping his hands, his thighs, the curve of his abdomen. Nothing but gentle and soft movements, patient and unhurried as if he wanted to stay longer as well.
When he was done, he even put Jisung’s clothes back on.
Jisung’s heart almost ached with how touched he felt.
But eventually, the moment ended. Bunny set him back onto the bed, kindly forcing Jisung’s hands from around his neck. And he let him. What else could he do?
“Next time?” Jisung asked, lips pushing into a pout.
In response, Bunny leaned in and placed another kiss to his forehead, careful not to mess up the blindfold. The kiss lasted more than it should. He caressed his cheek one last time and then his steps were the last thing Jisung heard before he left the room.
And Jisung was alone again, but yet. He never felt more alive.