{i crack myself up}

♡

DECEMBER 22

   Minho felt himself start to come back into consciousness, leaving his dreams behind. 

    The dream he had just been leaving was uncomfortable and weird— Jisung was there and—wait, if he was dreaming, that had to mean he was actually sleeping for a decent amount of time—

   He blinked open his eyes, and within two seconds he realized he he was looking right up at...

   Jisung?!

   It wasn't just a dream, not all of it anyway. He was in Jisung's arms, with his head resting in the crook of his elbow. Widening eyes and a spiking heart rate didn't leave him time to consider the fact that the warmth of Jisung's body may have been actually very nice; he skipped that thought and went straight to being disgusted as he came to his senses in a panicked hurry and threw himself into a sitting position, removing himself from Jisung.

    Just like that, he was back in his normal old mind again. And it was loud.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ

WHAT DID I DO

WHAT

DID

I

JUST

DO????

.....

i gave up. i lost.

years and years of fighting... dealing with this stuff. holding it all in; keeping a straight face— and suddenly, after a few days of sleepless nights my resolution just crumbles away. ugh!! melatonin! why didn't i think of melatonin! im such an idiot—now jisung's going to think that i want him hugging me all the time— when i don't!

i don't want to be touched.

please, no one touch me.

i'm scared.

all it takes it one slip up and years of crafting an image go entirely to waste.

my life.. is.. over ?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 』

    Minho was so sure that Jisung would have been able to hear the voice in his head with how loud it screamed, but if he did he showed no signs of it because all Jisung did was smile a little bit and give Minho a cordial, "Good morning. Well, afternoon, really, but that's beside the point."  

 Minho rubbed his face with his hands, letting a quiet groan that never could've expressed just how awful this entire situation was to him. Jisung, however, sat there peacefully, as if the walls weren't caving in on him and  his throat weren't tightening up. As if this current moment wasn't abysmal at all. Minho spread his fingers enough to take a peek at him, and then subtly inched away from him until he pressed into the wooden pole at the foot of his bed, because suddenly, with his head throbbing with panic, he felt the need to get as much space between him and any other bodies as possible.

   "You slept more than thirteen hours." 

   Well, that would explain why he felt like he was actually awake today. Still, he was tired, but he felt considerably more alive than he had for weeks.

   With his hands on the sides of his head now, blocking his eyes from view because he most definitely would not be able to handle eye contact of any sort, he croaked, "Sorry, Jisung." 

    "No worries. I'm happy to help." Jisung shrugged dismissively, from what Minho could see.

   Despite all the times Minho had pushed him away, lied to him, and even shouted at him, he was evidently still willing to help. How irritating of him.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ

UGH!

why do you keep trying to help? it'd be easier for me to not mess up and let you in if you didn't keep trying to help!

you make this so hard!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 』

    "...You wanna talk?" Jisung asked, softly, drumming his fingers over Minho's bedsheets.    

   "No."

   No, Minho did NOT want to acknowledge the fact that last night he had essentially been crying for Jisung to hold him, like a baby. Had he been alone, and not trying to look as okay as possible because someone was there to see him, just that thought alone would have him shivering violently and gagging intensely.

    "Want me to go?" 

    Finally, Minho removed his hands from his head, and sat up straight while he searched for an answer.

    Yes. No. Definitely. But maybe not.

   He was conflicted. Part of him wanted to be alone to think, and another part wanted to do anything but think about what he just did, which was easier to do with someone else in front of him.

   The deciding factor ended up being that he felt he should do something nice for Jisung, who Minho had more or less forced out of his bed and into the cold at two in the morning, and had made to wait for him to wake up, however many hours that may have been. Just so that... he didn't have to feel like he owed Jisung anything for making the mistake of calling him last night.

   It was past three now, and having had a sleeping body draped over his lap for the past thriteen hours, Jisung hadn't been able to get anything to eat yet.

   Minho dropped the hands that shielded his eyes, and dragged his pupils up in an attempt to look at Jisung. But that failed, so he ended up seeming to take an interest in a particular spot on the ceiling instead.

   "Um... Are you hungry?" Minho grumbled, groggily and grumpily.

    The question seemed to catch Jisung off guard. "Um, yeah. I actually thought you were gonna wake up when my stomach started growling," he chuckled. 

    "Well... You can come with me, then. If you want. I'll be... ready in five minutes." Minho promptly evacuated the foot of the bed and headed for the door.

    Jisung got up to stretch his legs while Minho changed his incredibly wrinkled dress shirt in the bathroom, and brushed his teeth, then smoothed his hair after frustratedly pulling at it with a scrunched-up face because as soon as he shut the door behind him he was alone and free to take out his anger on himself for a few short moments. The utter shame and fury that had been gathering up inside his chest while he was in his room with Jisung crashed down on him then in inescapable waves that caused his chest to constrict worryingly.

   But he didn't have time to allow himself to have a regretful meltdown, because he needed to get Jisung out of his house as soon as possible. He forced in a few slow breaths in an attempt to calm himself and regain the ability to keep a straight face.

pretend like nothing happened. nothing happened!!!

    However, no matter how much he tried to act completely normal, he couldn't look Jisung in the eye. He hoped Jisung wouldn't notice that.

   Then, there was the problem of sneaking Jisung out of his room without anyone seeing. Because he certainly did not want anyone to know about what just happened. After first leaving his room alone, to make sure that there was no one around to see Jisung, he led him downstairs and they put on their shoes. 

     "So, where are we going?" Jisung questioned, about a minute later, when he was pulling a seatbelt across his body. 

    "The diner. I'm gonna work. You're gonna eat." 

    "'Kay." 

   On the ride over, Jisung asked about the bruise (that had turned blue by now) on Minho's cheek. Minho brushed it off with an incoherent grumble, and thankfully the rest of the three-minute ride was only filled with awkward silence. So, yes,  It was lovely to get out of the car, even in the nasty, bitter cold.

When they walked into the diner, Jisung in his thick hoodie and pajama pants and Minho in his fresh, un-wrinkled work clothes, Minho's boss was almost upset to see him. 

    "Hey! What are you doing in here?? Did you sleep?" The man shook a threatening finger at Minho from behind the counter.

    Customers' heads were turning to look at him. Minho's face started to go red. The shame still clung to him with a deathly strong grip and it only got worse with all those eyes on him. Especially since Jisung was standing beside him. Minho felt like a criminal, despite his attempts to tell himself that none of those people starting at him knew what he did.

    "Yes." He pointed out a seat at the bar for Jisung, then went behind the counter and put his apron on. 

    "Who's this?" His boss stared at Jisung, who waved sheepishly. 

    "...Jisung. He's eating," Minho replied, scratching the back of his head.

    "You Minho's friend?" 

    "Mhm." 

    "It's on the house." He turned away and went back to filling mugs. He came back a second later. "By the way, you look cold," he stated, sliding a whipped-cream-topped mug of hot chocolate Jisung's way. 

    Minho smiled the tiniest bit, watching Jisung thank him profusely, but it was a crooked smile, the type you have on when you're five seconds from losing it, whether you're genuinely amused or not. The lackluster smile was already wiped off completely before he set a menu in front of Jisung, eyes looking anywhere but at the boy. "Let me know when you've figured out what you want. I'll be taking out orders in the meantime," Minho explained, as quickly as possible.

okay, pretending nothing happened is really hard. i don't wanna be rude but i'll go crazy if he stays here much longer.

    "Got it."

    About fifteen minutes later, Minho was setting a steaming plate of cinnamon-strawberry french toast in front of Jisung, then giving him a tub each of maple syrup and thick whipped cream. He thought about giving Jisung a smoothie he hadn't asked for, too (since that was one of his favorite things the diner offered), but it'd probably make him take longer, and Minho wanted to get him out and on his way home as quickly as possible, though he dreaded the car ride back. 

    He was complimented almost endlessly by Jisung; even after he finished his food and Minho drove him home, Jisung was still mentioning how good his breakfast tasted. Minho didn't care what he said, as long as he wasn't talking about last night, he was happy.

   Well, happy, considering his current circumstances.

     After driving Jisung home, he returned to work for a couple hours, where he put all his energy into not thinking about anything but waiter-work. And then as soon as he got home he went to bed, all but passing out in a messy heap of bedding.

    And the next morning, (because he hadn't considered it the morning before since his mind was on other things) when he woke, he'd never been so irritated to find himself having slept through the night so peacefully.

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

i am so tired good night