MINHO / JISUNG —

   "I wanna feed you cotton candy! Come here!" Jisung beamed. At least he seemed to be having a decent time, now.

   There was a lot going on at the festival, when they finally got there. In Minho's mind, and outside of it.

   Minho was terrified. He hoped, wished, and dreamed that Jisung would really just end up forgetting what happened this morning, because how could he explain that away? And worse, how could he tell Jisung about his secret? He'd been masquerading as a cliche sort of bad boy, a tough guy— the kind of person that a plush-lipped, doe-eyed hottie such as Jisung would want to be with. And what was he really? A crybaby.

   Little space  just didn't fit with that image Minho had built for himself— for Jisung, rather. Even if Jisung would've accepted him had he come clean about it sooner, it'd been nearly three months that he'd been pretending to be someone entirely different. Surely he'd feel betrayed. Minho wouldn't blame him for wanting to leave.

   That's why, even if it was all still fake, and even if it'd all be over after today, Minho begged for just one more day to be boyfriends, like nothing had ever happened.

   But it, disappointingly (even if it was rather predictable), it wasn't like that. Even though they agreed to "forget about it", it wasn't like nothing happened, because Minho found himself unable to smirk at Jisung in exaggerated efforts to make him shy and blushy, and he also found himself unable to pretend he didn't care when Jisung made any sort of move on him, starting with when Jisung had offered to hold his hand earlier (and lasting all the way to his attempts to shove cotton candy into Minho's mouth at this very moment).

   Usually, he would've either pushed Jisung away with a half-teasing air, just to look cool, as if he weren't desperate for it, as if Jisung was being too cheesy and romantic for him (because he definitely wasn't the cheesy, romantic type), or if it were really to hard to resist, he would've just put on a disinterested expression and taken Jisung's hand as if it were nothing. Because that's what Jisung wanted, right? Someone who wasn't pathetically, desperately in need of his affection?

   It was the memory of waking up in his headspace, thumb lodged in his mouth, to Jisung right there, wide-eyed, staring at him, that turned any attempts at a smirk into a wobbly, crooked, half-assed half-smile.

    Underneath the cafe's round little wooden table, when they sat down for breakfast, Minho's legs had bounced nervously, and inside the pockets of the jacket he'd shrugged on before heading out with Jisung, his hands shook. 

In his mind all day, it was: This is so gonna be my last day with Jisung— he's gonna dump me after I tell him. I'm such a baby— Ugh, I can't tell him!  But he already saw!

    He was majorly stressed out. Again. And with everything going on at the festival, with all those bright colors plastered, and booths with stuffed animals that he secretly had a strong urge to hug and pet, and nostalgic sugary treats at every corner... well, let's just say his adult headspace was slowly but surely crumbling down, leaving him plummeting into that cloudy, fuzzy state of mind.

-

   Now, Jisung?

   Even though Jisung had agreed to pretend nothing happened for the time being, he couldn't stop worrying over Minho's behavior, and what about it might be signs pointing to him... changing "mindsets"? Turning to a kid? What did one call that sort of thing? Un-growing-up? How did it work? Chan had hardly told him anything.

    The truth was, no matter how hard he tried not to think about it, and tried to act normal for Minho's sake, he couldn't stop himself from remembering the things that happened that morning. Minho with his thumb in his mouth, cuddled up to Chan, wearing a onesie, adorable as the scene was, was one of the strangest things he'd ever witnessed, considering the way Minho was. Talking to Chan about it hadn't clarified much— if anything, it stirred up more questions. What did it mean? 

   But for Minho's sake, he wouldn't let himself stay quietly pondering too long. 

   Just then, they'd been walking hand-in-hand through the booths that had been set up in the parking lot overnight, when Jisung felt Minho distractedly fall back, letting their hands separate as Jisung got ahead of him.

   Turning back, Jisung saw a childish, gleeful sparkle in Minho's eyes. He bounced slightly on his feet, then he turned around with his mouth open in a big, giddy grin... and then he remembered that his boyfriend was there and he stopped in his tracks, deflating like a balloon, rushing to put on a cool expression again.

   Jisung tilted his head and stepped closer, placing himself next to Minho to see what he'd been staring at so enthusiastically. It was a long, stretched-out, carnival-sized cat plushie with its arms sticking up. That was what Minho was staring at so intensely as if he'd never wanted something more in his life. But by the time Jisung got there to look at it, too, Minho tore his head away, flustered, ears red. He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his body away.

     Jisung knew that despite the fact that he never going to admit that he wanted that stuffed animal, he wanted it, badly. And he was getting tired of this cool-guy-act.

    He hooked his hand around Minho's forearm and pulled him over to the booth. "I wanna play this one, c'mere." Minho was stiff, biting down on his lip, when Jisung let him go to dig his wallet out of his bag. 

    Truth is, Jisung hadn't even noticed what game he was handing over three dollars for. When he actually looked, he found that it was a ring toss. Well, that shouldn't be too hard. There had to be at least three dozen rings in the metal pail he was handed, by the kid behind the counter in the silly carnival getup— the white-and-red-striped vest and everything.

   Well, he ended up going through every single ring in that bucket and not landing one.

   So, insisting that he needed to get his dignity back, he ordered another bucket, and all the while, Minho stood watching. 

    Anyway, by the time he got to the third bucket, he'd finally managed to land the five rings he needed to win the prize. The last plastic ring fell around the hook with a satisfying clink, and as Jisung gave a delighted and accomplished whoop, he found that Minho was back near him again, hovering close to his side.

    Jisung held out his hand at his side, opened wide for Minho to take, as he pointed at the prize he wanted with the other.

    Minho took it quickly, making it obvious just how focused he really was on Jisung, no matter how much he forcibly looked away from him, all the time, like he didn't really care. 

   "Can you hold this for me?" Jisung asked, with a little grin. The grin quickly disappeared after he placed it into Minho's hands, because when he did, Minho's face changed again. Again, Jisung watched him make an expression he'd never seen from him before. It was like something in him shifted, something about the way that, while looking at it, his pupils dilated, his mouth opened slightly and his bottom lip jutted out just so— there was something different about Minho's quietness and stillness.

    And then his eyebrows furrowed slightly and the corners of his lips turned just slightly downward. Minho looked like he was about three seconds away from breaking out in tears, in the middle of the festival. With a long cat plushie in his arms.

   Whether those really were tears he saw in his eyes or not, Jisung figured, with the way he'd been acting, maybe this was him doing that thing that Chan had tried explaining to him earlier. Maybe it was that... what was it called? Little space? Had Jisung caused that, just by putting the plushie into his hands?

   If that's what it was, with Minho so incredibly hesitant to show himself to Jisung, and with Jisung himself being so clueless and inexperienced, there was only one person who could help. And Minho was getting increasingly agitated by the looks of it, with his hands trembling slightly under the plushie and his bottom lip wobbling. Suddenly, he felt guilt creep up on him. Had he just sent his boyfriend— the one who was always, always fronting with as much unwavering fake confidence as he could manage, like his life depended on it—into a panic?

   "Hey," Jisung started, softly, leaning close to Minho's ear. "...Do you need Chan hyung?"

     Eyes glued to the ground, Minho nodded slowly. He was ashamed. Jisung was, too, because he had no idea how to help, except of course, to say, "Okay, I'll call him." As he put his phone to his ear, he added a gentle, "Hang tight, hyung." And he didn't catch Minho's wince.

   By the time Chan arrived ten quiet, awkward minutes later, Minho still hadn't looked up once. He was nervously staring at his shoes, the pavement, the hem of his jacket— anything but Jisung, or anyone in the general vicinity, the entire time, even when Jisung tugged him over to a bench to sit down and wait. He'd handed the plushie back to Jisung and was now fiddling with his hands, biting his nails, and occasionally chewing on the tips of his fingers.

   Yet, when Chan got to them, following Jisung's directions, and crouched in front of Minho, Minho's head was back up again immediately and he was looking directly at Chan, with a slight trace of a pout on his face, though he looked relieved at the same time. It was as if he was wordlessly telling Chan what a hard time he'd had without him.

   "Time to go back, Minnie?" Chan questioned, voice soothing and soft, as he gently pulled Minho's fingers from his mouth. "Your hands are dirty, bud."

   The difference between them, when it came to how they dealt with Minho, was instantly clear.

   How could Minho do anything but nod and cling to someone like that, whose parental vibes were so strong that it felt like he was handing you a mug of warm milk and tucking you into bed, just when he smiled at you?

   Chan held Minho's hand tight and immediately had him tucked in neatly at his side. It looked like something they were accustomed to doing. Minho knew to stay close.

   Then, Chan turned to Jisung. "So, I'm gonna take Minho back to my place. Are you gonna come, too?"

   "Yeah, if you don't mind. He owes me a chat."

   "Mm... I'm not sure you'll be getting much out of him today. But you can try."

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