There is no content warnings for this chapter xx

✧━━ .·:*¨¨* 𓆩♡𓆪 *¨¨*:·. ━━ ✧

❥ 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 •°. *࿐

Jisung barely registers the voices outside of his door, the subtle noises emerging with an early morning routine that felt oddly unfamiliar. Every morning was met with the usual, tentative quiet, save for the days his mother was unusually home later in the day, only leaving to start her day in the afternoon, leaving the home void of her presence until nearly midnight. Though, this morning was odd, to say the least. Jisung could register the sounds of his father's low voice, the quiet murmurs of conversation lingering in the space just beyond the wooden door. With a breath, Jisung adjusts himself on the bed, and it's only then that he realizes there was another person in the bed with him.

Slowly, Jisung turns over his shoulder and spots Minho asleep behind him, the blanket clinging to his frame in a comfortable embrace, his breaths rhythmic and deep, secluded away from the rest of the world as he chases after what felt like lost hours from the hands of his father. Jisung's expression softens almost immediately, watching as Minho's chest rises and falls, the expression on his face the epitome of relaxation and near contentment. He hadn't seen Minho act this serene ever, and to finally see him chasing after a moment of bliss amongst the chaotic world he tried to survive in, Jisung nearly refuses to disturb the peace that Minho had finally captured.

The sudden trail of voices grow slightly louder, causing Jisung's eyes to shift and move back to that of his door, listening as the murmurs of his parents mingling in the kitchen slowly begin to make his heart race. Minho never went home last night. Minho stayed here, in bed, with him.

Panic quickly consumes the quiet, tranquil bliss that Jisung had momentarily slipped into, causing him to gently shift himself out of bed, making sure to keep his steps quiet, shuffling around his room to make sure that Minho had left his stuff in there, rather than out in the open, which would be an open invitation for questions that he wouldn't have answers for.

But, after spotting Minho's bag and his shoes, Jisung takes a wary, calming breath, trying to compose himself as he prepares to trek out into the lively space in a notion to try and gauge at just how long his parents would be home. They did have class today, and if Jisung wanted to make it to school on time with Minho, they'd have to leave sooner rather than later.

Carefully, Jisung places his hand on the doorknob before pulling his door open, pausing the moment Minho shifts slightly, his eyes watching the male intently before deciding to leave, leaving Minho to rest in the quiet and comfort of his bedroom. The light from the kitchen bleeds into the hallway, causing Jisung's head to turn towards the ambient sounds of the television, replaying the news that had already aired earlier this morning, replaying the forecast and recent events, all of which he knew his parents were likely enthralled with.

After quietly closing his door, Jisung moves into the space, spotting his father settled on the sofa, a mug of coffee in his hand while his laptop remained open on the coffee table, alive and silently humming, the screen holding open a document that was labeled with graphs and equations that Jisung could barely comprehend. Some terminology was easy for Jisung to read, all in relation to cardiac diseases and infectious blood cells, but other things remained a mystery, leaving his eyes to move away as he caught sight of his mother, who was seemingly packing a lunch for each person in the apartment.

"Ji," she says, her eyes alight with affection as she looks up, closing the top of the tote that she just had finished packing. "Good morning! How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," Jisung says, quickly smiling to dissolve the tension within his chest. "It was a quiet night in. I'm just really relaxed, I guess, but I'm also surprised to see you both here so late. Does that mean you're both working twelves?"

"Your father has meetings aligned for most of the day, but we should both be home for dinner, I'd think. I've got overtime the next couple of days, so I might be home earlier than your father, but I can't be sure."

Jisung nods, moving over to the kitchen island, standing across from his mother. "I understand. Classes end in two weeks; you both know that, right?"

"Of course," she affirms. "I've got it marked on my calendar. We wouldn't miss your graduation or the last day of school, Ji. Don't worry. You're the most important thing in our lives, even if work does consume our time quite a bit."

"You know I've never held it against you for working so hard to provide for me," Jisung says, watching as his mother smiles fondly.

"We know that, Jisung. We want what's best for you, and watching you earn these high marks and awards for diligence within your studies makes us so proud. We can't wait to see you off to college, so you can chase after that degree with the same enthusiasm that we had," she expresses, almost a bit too excitedly, which in turn causes Jisung's heart to sink.

"Right," Jisung says back, smiling small, his eyes shooting down to glance at the lunch totes. "Did you make my lunch?"

"Yeah," she says with a small laugh. "I got carried away this morning. You can thank your father for giving me coffee at nearly six, because I've had so much energy that I hadn't known how to properly deal with it."

"You? Drinking coffee?" Jisung smiles, shaking his head in disbelief. "You didn't have to pack me a lunch, mom, you know I can do it myself."

"I know, it's a bizarre day when I, of all people, drink coffee more than one day a week, or really at all. But, your father is trying this new savory blend, and I must admit, it's really good," she says with a subtle breath, smiling as she glances at her husband.

"I told you that I was right," he says from the living space, raising his coffee mug slightly. "Perfect way to start the day!"

She rolls her eyes playfully, looking back at Jisung as her hands move to zip the lunch tote shut, gently pushing it towards him. "I made your favorite. Don't be late for class; you've got to leave soon, don't you?"

"Yeah, in a bit. I'm not worried about it," Jisung says, placing his hands on the sides of his lunch tote. "I've finished all of my exam prep and whatnot, so there's little for me to do as it is."

"I see," she hums, grabbing her own lunch tote. "Well, study hard, Ji. Get good marks! You know we want the best for you, and the only thing we could ever want for you is to make it into a prestigious school so you can earn the best credentials."

"I know, I know," Jisung says, keeping his voice quiet.

"You heard your mother," his father interjects, turning around on the couch to properly face Jisung. "We care about your future; about your wellbeing. We want to set you up for success."

"I understand," Jisung acknowledges, turning around to glance at his father. "Don't worry, I know that the path set for me is the wisest one, and I wouldn't dream of risking all of that."

"Good," his father agrees, a small smile on his lips. "Now, go get ready. Your mother and I are leaving here shortly."

"Have a good day at work, the both of you," Jisung says with a small smile, turning to face his mother. "I'll see you both when you're home."

"Of course. Have a lovely day at class, Ji." His mother smiles, standing near the kitchen island before moving back into the living space and towards her husband. Jisung turns on his heel, listening to the quiet mumbles of morning affections melt between his parents as he sought refuge, sinking back into his bedroom with quiet steps, trying to be mindful of Minho's rest. But, to his surprise, Minho was sitting upright, his phone in his hands, his hair tousled from deep sleep. Jisung meets his gaze the moment he closes his door, standing idly for a moment, watching as Minho's sleepy gaze suddenly seemed brighter, alight with a glimmer of happiness and affection.

"Hi," Jisung says quietly, setting down his lunch tote on his side table. "Sleep okay?"

"I did," Minho answers groggily, his voice a soothing low, nearly husky. "I. . . forgot to go home last night."

"Yeah, you did," Jisung replies quietly, smiling through his words.

"I heard your parents," Minho says softly, his eyes darting downwards for a moment. "They don't know I'm here, do they?"

"No," Jisung says with a sigh, walking over to his bed. He settles down on the edge next to Minho, his gaze lingering on the floor as his words tumble free. "They can't know, either. My mother. . . disapproves of you, for an unknown reason. She claims to know your dad, but I don't know why–"

"It's okay, Jisung," Minho reassures the moment he interjects, shrugging his shoulders absently. "I don't expect them to like me, given my reputation. I've given myself a bad name, and I need to own up to the consequences if I want to make it through life. I can't go and avoid everyone just because I know how others think of me."

"But it's not fair," Jisung says, turning to gaze at Minho. "They don't know you the way I do, they aren't seeing the real you, just the outside version of you."

"No one else needs to know me in the way you do, Ji," Minho says, smiling small. "Only you get the privilege of seeing me like this."

"Oh?" Jisung smiles, looking at Minho fondly. "Only I get to see you be so mushy and soft?"

"Yes," Minho laughs quietly. "Only you get to see me like this."

"I'm quite lucky, then," Jisung quips, tilting his head, searching Minho's expression with a lingering glimmer of tease settled within his hues. "If everyone got to see this side of you, I might end up jealous. You can be a big bad wolf to everyone outside of this, but to me, you're just a little teddy bear, and I like that about you."

"I can definitely be soft, just like a teddy, but only for you," Minho retorts back, turning slightly to face Jisung, wrapping an arm around his waist. "I don't care what your parents think of me, Jisung. Opinions mean nothing to me, unless they are of your own. I only care about what you have to say, what you think, and what you like and dislike. Everyone else can disappear, as far as I'm concerned."

"So my parent's disapproval doesn't scare you away?" Jisung asks, watching as Minho nods slowly, his eyes lulling as he draws nearer.

"No, and it never would," Minho responds in a murmur. "As long as you want me, why bother with anyone else's opinion? It's your life, Jisung. Only you get to choose how you want me in your life."

"We do need to be more careful," Jisung says, leaning closer simultaneously. "Like. . . really. . . careful."

"Yeah?" Minho asks, a smile curling on the edges of his lips. "How careful?"

"Well, you can't sleep here–" Jisung says, his words being cut off as Minho tenderly kisses him, swallowing his breaths and whatever mumble of words dared to leave his lips.

"It was an accident," Minho says against his lips. "Can't you forgive me for a small, little, itty bitty accident?"

"Maybe," Jisung breathes back, sinking into another kiss. "But no more accidents. I don't want them seeing you here–"

"Okay," Minho says back, curling his hand around Jisung's hip. "But, I can't promise I won't accidentally forget to go home again."

"Minho'ah–" Jisung warns with a warm lilt, earning a chuckle in return from Minho.

"I don't sleep very often, Jisung," Minho admits, leaning to press his forehead against Jisung's. "You make it easy to just let go, to find peace, to sink into a state of bliss that I haven't felt in a long, long time."

"I'm glad I can give you that," Jisung responds, looking up through his lashes to glance at Minho. "You make it easier to breathe, Minho. All of the studying and the pressure from my parents, it was suffocating, and I don't think I properly realized just how heavy it was until we. . . you know, and now. . . now I can breathe, and I didn't understand it at first until yesterday. It was like I had been holding in a breath for an unknown amount of time until I finally just let go."

"We're each other's breath of fresh air," Minho says back, leaning away slightly, reaching a hand up to brush away Jisung's hair that seemed to dangle in front of his gaze. "You've been a beacon of light in my endless darkness, Ji. My little light, my little protector–"

"Stop it, Minho'ah–" Jisung whines quietly, smiling insatiably.

"I can't help it," Minho chuckles too, his hand now moving to rest on Jisung's jaw almost a bit hesitantly, but resting there nonetheless. "You just make everything more bearable."

Jisung leans into Minho's touch, and for a moment, he swears the world outside of this little bubble melts away, drifting out into the sea, leaving them stranded on their own island, safe and away from the binds that often tried to drag them apart. Jisung wanted to cut his every tie, wishing to be severed from the confines of his parent's wishes and ambitions, longing to be his own person and to seek his own path, to chase after a future built and crafted of his own fruition. Being with Minho, if only for this short amount of time, has shown him a life that he could've never imagined. Feeling something like this, something so deep and woven into the fabrics of his soul and essence, made him feel as if he could never live without feeling this attached to anyone else. He wanted Minho, in every way, in every thought, and in every essence he could fathom.

His parents were overbearing, yes, loving and understandably worried about the future he'd choose, but their wishes and hopes for Jisung were that of their own, not of wanting their son to seek a destiny that he chose of his own volition. Jisung wanted to be free, to untangle himself from the woven delicacies that came from being attached to such prestigious medical ties, seeking to do something else, something more satisfying and more creative, to be himself, and not this forced, studious, pompous version that he often portrayed to simply pass by his parent's overly analytic gaze. He didn't wish to disobey and to seek a different path, but as he grew older and learned the true nature of the world, Jisung slowly began to want something different. Even now, entwined with Minho's heart, Jisung wishes to be with him, to go where he goes and to seek the calamity that came with being in Minho's arms, wanting to protect him and to encourage him to seek a better life.

Minho deserved the world, to see just how kind the universe could be if just given the chance, to help him see just how worth it he truly was, and how he always would be. Jisung wanted to pursue a future far from the throes of what his parents dreamed for him, to only just be himself, to be the most distant thing from a dutiful son. To be an author, a professor, to be anything but what they dreamed; to just be Jisung.

Even as he sat here, looking at Minho, wondering how in the hell he had gotten lucky enough to hold someone like this so dearly in his heart, to be trusted enough to protect him, to be so adored and so admired by someone who deserved nothing less than the absolute best; Jisung found himself teetering on the thinnest of lines. He knew more than anything that he would follow Minho to the ends of the Earth, and feeling this magnetic pull bind them even closer together, removing all the ties and binds, piece by piece, Jisung begins to rather entwine himself with Minho, remaining put and still, right here, where he felt he belonged. Eventually, maybe, he'd grow the courage to explain to his parents about what he truly wanted, but for now, to keep Minho safe, he would abide by the rules, at least until classes ended in two miserable weeks.

"We need to get to class," Jisung mumbles, watching as Minho shakes his head, a teasing smile woven onto his lips.

"No." Minho leans back slightly, his hands moving to grasp onto Jisung's pulling him closer, trying to entice him back into the comfort of covers and sheets, to embrace the pillows and settle into the warmth they shared from one another. "Let's skip."

"Me? Skipping class?" Jisung says, feigning innocence. "You think of me to be a delinquent?"

"No, but you could be," Minho teases, pulling Jisung a little firmer. "C'mon. Be a delinquent with me. Be my little delinquent."

"You're absolutely vile this morning," Jisung quips right back, but his smile expresses a different story, one woven of utter affection and complete contentment. "You'd really rather skip class and lay here?"

"Wouldn't you?" Minho asks, raising a brow. "Felix can surely gather notes for you, or since you're such a smarty pants, I'm sure you've already done the lessons for this week."

"Actually–" Jisung laughs, freeing one of his hands to point at Minho. "I haven't because I knew I'd be bored this week, so I did nothing to prepare–"

"You'll survive," Minho says, completely cutting off Jisung as he continues his gentle pull. "Come lay down, I'm feeling awfully clingy right now."

"You? Clingy?" Jisung says, giving in slightly, but only enough to just hover above Minho. "Never."

"Leave me alone," Minho whines, but it soon dissolves into a quiet laugh. "I just. . . want to stay here, with you. To be alone, away from the world."

"I know," Jisung whispers back, looking down at Minho. "That's okay. I want that, too."

"Then let's stay here," Minho tries to entice, a soothing hum attuned to his every word. "Just be with me, for one day. No classes, no teachers, no friends and school drama; just us."

"Just us," Jisung echoes, leaning down, feeling as Minho's hand wraps around the back of his neck warmly, pulling him closer, reducing their distance to mere inches.

"Mm," Minho hums. "Just you and me."

"I'd like that," Jisung quietly says back, letting his eyes flutter close, allowing the magnetic pull to finally allow him to drift past the distance between them, tenderly crashing his lips against Minho's.

Minho keeps Jisung close, allowing their lips to continually collide, savoring the closeness their morning had wrought with gentle tenderness. Jisung truly didn't care about anything else but this. He wanted to cherish Minho, to keep him here and to show him just how truly adored he was. He didn't deserve Mingi's berating humor, nor did he deserve the looks and stares from those who didn't understand. He just needed this; to be cherished, to be shown the chance that no one else ever gave him, and to be seen as he was.

Hours pass.

Jisung and Minho had taken a long nap together on his mattress, holding onto one another in the comfort and quiet of a dark room, collecting themselves for a day spent with no one else but themselves. After napping, Jisung had enticed Minho into his desk chair, showing him his games and computer programs, encouraging Minho to test the waters and experience whatever he wished to, watching as Minho dove into the world of League of Legends, trying his hand at a game he hadn't played before. Jisung simply sat and coached from his own seat, laughing with Minho at his every failed attack and lost game, that is, until Minho finally got the hang of it and eventually won, celebrating with an awfully enthusiastic hug that eventually melted into a series of kisses that landed them right back into Jisung's bed.

Now, just past noon, Jisung was in the kitchen, searching through his refrigerator and cabinets in search of sustenance. Minho was sitting at the kitchen island, humming along to a song that he was playing from his phone, allowing the melody to fill the room as Jisung went about his kitchen in search of something; anything.

"We could just order in," Minho suggests quietly, leaving Jisung to simply shrug.

"We might have to," he sighs. "My mom usually goes to the store tomorrow evening, so that leaves practically nothing in the house the day before. What are you in the mood for?"

"Ramen, to be honest," Minho suggests lightly, pausing the music on his phone. "Unless you want something else? I'm okay with whatever."

"Ramen is good. We can run to the convenience store?" Jisung asks, looking at Minho with a hopeful glance.

"Yeah," Minho nods, shutting off his phone. "It'll be nice for us to at least go outside once today."

"But I like being locked up in here with you," Jisung says, striding closer, leaning against the otherside of the kitchen island. "Doing this, taking a moment to just breathe, it's been nice."

"Then we should do it again, shouldn't we?" Minho asks with a slight tilt to his head, a smile creeping onto his lips as his teasing words land in front of Jisung, earning a faux-sigh of indifference.

"Minho'ah–" Jisung whines with an audible smile. "You know we shouldn't."

"Doesn't mean that we can't just because we shouldn't–"

"I can't risk getting graded down a mark for tardiness," Jisung says, looking down at Minho, smiling softly. "I love lazing around here with you, but my parents are like hawks. They watch me closely, and if we get too comfortable, they could really make me a hostage here, and I don't want that to happen."

"There's always a little fun in being risky, isn't there?" Minho asks, resting his elbow on the kitchen island, opening his palm and placing his chin within his hand, looking up at Jisung with an innocent glint.

"You just like the risk," Jisung quips back, raising a brow. "You're a little risk-taker. My little troublemaker."

"Troublemaker?" Minho asks with a smile, earning a rapt nod from Jisung in return.

"Of course. What else would you be?"

"Your boyfriend, perhaps?" Minho says, tilting his head slightly.

Jisung's cheeks bleed with warmth, coloring his skin with a flush of pinks and reds, causing his gaze to drift away as Minho's entrapped hues seem to only fluster him even further. "Stop it, Minho'ah– you're being so gross today, and I can't take it."

"Gross?" Minho laughs, reaching his hands across the countertop, grabbing onto Jisung's once they were offered up. "I'm just obsessed with you, so deal with it."

Jisung pauses, looking up at Minho, taking a moment to soak in just how overly affectionate Minho was being. He had grown more and more comfortable in their relationship with every passing moment, and to see him like this, vulnerable and genuine, simply just loving their dynamic and the closeness that it brought, made Jisung's heart set ablaze. He knew he could see himself truly falling for Minho eventually, if he hadn't begun to do so already, and in knowing that, felt to be the simple utterance of bliss.

"You're being so cute right now, and it's flustering the hell out of me, so stop it," Jisung says quietly, squeezing Minho's hands as he leans into the countertop again, trying to keep his composure, even if his cheeks were still painted in an affectionate hue.

Just as Minho had been about to respond, the lock on the front door turned, unlocking itself, sending the door drifting open, leaving Jisung's gaze to drift to the figure standing there, completely in shock, her eyes widening with disdain and surprise as Jisung stood there, wordless and with an urge to panic.

"Han Jisung–?!" His mother asks, her eyes shifting between the two boys who sat there quietly, watching the scene unfold before her.

Jisung simply stood there, taking his hands out of Minho's, watching as his mother's face twisted in a myriad of anger and disgruntled disbelief. Jisung turned to look at Minho, knowing all too well what would become of their little bubble, now suddenly feeling as the world caved back in, disrupting their peace and the very foundation it stood upon.