11: Drunk in tears.

“Four rooms,” Minho said to the innkeeper, much to Jisung’s shock.

“What? No way! I can't have my own room?” Jisung whined in shock. He’d obviously expected the kids to share, but the adults as well? Was that even proper?

The kids were already settled around tables near the stairs, ordering food while Jisung and Minho took care of the accommodations. Jisung wished he would go with the kids and ordered something spicy for Minho in response.

“Two beds in each room.” Minho added. The innkeeper, clearly familiar with him, nodded eagerly and took the offered money, smiling in a submissive manner.

“Of course, of course. We’re always very happy to serve Master Minho’s people.” The man said, handing them a bunch of keys.

Jisung pouted. The original plan was to call a servant up to his room and then sneakily ask for the Emperor's Smile for Minho to pay. That wouldn’t do if Minho was there to witness it.

“What’s this, Minho?” he asked once they joined the kids. “It can’t be for budget reasons. I’ve seen the amount of money in that pouch. In my world, you would be considered a member of the one percent, and I would have to despise you on principle."

As usual, Minho ignored the nonsense and only replied to the direct question. “Jisung had expressed an interest to be an example to the juniors. He may set an example by sharing.”

Jisung squinted his eyes at this, suspicious. “Fine. I’ll share it with one of the kids.”

This made something flash past Minho’s face.

“Can’t. Improper.”

“How is that more improper than me sharing with you? These are kids. We are two unmarried young men.” he argued. If he got into a room with one of the baby disciplines, he could probably just not explain himself and the kid would have to trust their senior.

Minho seemed hell-bent on making it difficult for him.

“Night-hunts are also an opportunity for the juniors to want to share with a peer.” He stated.

“That doesn’t even address the point!”

The juniors exchanged glances with one another after listening intently to the discussion. The brave one of them spoke up first, saying, "Master Minho has always been a model of virtue. He has an excellent reputation. I do not think Senior Han should worry.”

Minho’s expression, if one could even say so, was a little smug after this.

“But he’s only one of us! Nobody genuinely believes that I am acting with good intent." Jisung tried.

“The greater reason for Jisung to not share with a junior.”

Groaning, Jisung threw his face into his hands. These people are unbelievable! "All right, all right! I am giving up! I will share the room with the esteemed Master Minho."

Minho nodded, ignoring his dramatics. They ordered food, then, and soon there was a plate of spicy food placed in front of Jisung. Surprised, he looked at the others’ plates, but all he saw were bland ones.

He was going to ask Minho, but the man only raised an eyebrow at him. Jisung figured it was a peace offering. As those went, this was an effective one. 

For the first time in quite a while, Jisung got to eat food that tasted like something. It was a gift enough to almost make up for the Emperor's Smile.

Besides, he had another plan ready.

Once they were done with the food, the juniors bowed their goodnights. Jisung and Minho turned in as well.

When Jisung took a bath in the Geumgangsan, Minho was frequently nowhere to be found. It was most likely due to the Lee clan’s strict purity laws, which stated that if you saw a slice of skin that was not on one's face or hands prior to marriage, you were a whore and brought shame to your ancestors.

The modern world would jump off a cliff if they heard this.

Minho, quite ingeniously, dodged this by never being present in the Geumgangsan when Jisung got naked. Jisung, on the other hand, made it his mission to annoy Minho whenever he took a bath. He would approach the privacy screen every five minutes and engage in small talk with him about anything and everything, all for the purpose of hearing the small splash of water that signalled Minho was getting angry once more.

Wow, privacy. What a concept. Hyunjin had once come into the bathroom to blow dry his hair when Jisung was still in the shower. The lock was broken. Neither of them cared.

In any case, Minho and Jisung shared a room in an inn, so they had to be present while each other bathed.

“You go first.” Jisung said, which immediately made Minho suspicious.

“Jisung should go first.”

So Jisung did. This had nothing to do with his plan, but it was amusing to act suspiciously around Minho while he was being so difficult.

He cleaned up quickly and did not get into any funny business with his robes. He put on two layers neatly enough that the final layer could be easily slipped on later.

While Minho bathed, Jisung went to lie on his own bed. The privacy screen here was white and thin, which was perfectly inappropriate given the amount of light coming from the bathing side.

It was intriguing to stare at Minho's shadow bathing on the other side, with broad shoulders sticking out of the tub and strong hands rubbed against his... chest, perhaps? Kind of hard to tell.

He wondered if Minho had looked at his figure bathing during his turn. Probably not. Minho was proper and respectful, unlike Jisung, who even on good days was a complete gremlin. He did not feel ashamed for enjoying the show. Minho was clearly meant to be appreciated, and with all of the repression in Geumgangsan, he was only playing catch-up.

After a while, Minho stood up from the tub, and when he stepped out, Jisung got an outline of his--

“Jisung?” Minho’s voice sounded concerned.

Jisung had probably let out a strangled noise. Which was… completely justified.

“I’m fine! I’m fine! I’m just… choking on my own spit, you know how it is.” Jisung called back quickly, turning around on the bed, slightly mortified as he stuck his face on the pillow. 

“Holy fuck.” Jisung muttered with a low voice.

“...I see.”

He could hear Minho putting on clothes, which was a good thing because Jisung was probably never going to get that thing out of his mind. He probably should’ve guessed this. From the…uh… from that to everything about Minho, because the guy was perfect.

“Jisung? Are you alright?”asked the perfect man once dressed and stepping around the screen. Jisung deliberately said yes.

He felt like screaming at Minho, asking him a series of questions like,

'Do you think my dick is small? I’ve always thought it’s normal. I have seen like one dick before, and it wasn’t like that. No one’s dick is like that! Except in porn, but aren’t those supposed to be massive? Have I been lied to?'

But he didn’t.

“Are you sure--”

“All good! I’m good here. Great... Good night, Minho!” 

After a long pause, Minho replied, “Good night, Jisung.”

They settled into their respective beds. Jisung used a neat trick he had recently learned to extinguish the candles by using the wind. The room enveloped in darkness.

Jisung was very good at acting asleep. Knowing how to make his breathing sound believably unconscious was critical if he wanted  his foster mother  not know he’ve just run from the window to the bed, still fully clothed from sneaking out. Often it worked. The few times he hadn't, Jisung had spent a month without a phone which he found really devastating.

He’d long ago broken that record here. It wasn’t quite as devastating as he’d once believed, but currently he miss Google. It would’ve come handy in many places already, such as now, with the question about average dick sizes.

In any case. Minho’s breathing soon followed his fake slowness, and after what must’ve been way too generous caution time, Jisung slipped out of the bed.

Silent as ever, he pulled on the outer robe, tied it tightly around him, and then sneaked out of the room.

There were a few customers up at the tables, and Jisung easily waved himself a waiter to bring a couple of jars of Emperor’s Smile.

“On Master Minho’s tab,” he told the waiter, who nodded and left for the drinks.

Jisung, ever sociable, sat down with the men near the doors, instantly making himself their best friend when the Emperor’s Smile was placed before him and he served all of them a cup of it. It wasn’t the cheapest drink out there, apparently.

“To Master Minho!” Jisung cheered, and the others joined, a little laughingly, not knowing that their sponsor was sleeping right upstairs. They chugged the drink down, and it was the best alcohol Jisung ever tasted.

Jisung was delighted. He poured himself another one of that rich, smooth, flowery drink.

Back home, whenever he’d dared to put money on something other than rent or food, he’d bought the cheapest beer with the highest percentage. The point in that was to get drunk. The point in this was to drink. There was a difference.

“You’re not from around here.” said one of the men, older, who’d already been a bit tipsy.

“No, I’m not! I’m from Seoul!” He threw back another drink. The others did the same.

“Where?” one asked.

Jisung laughed. “I-- oh no, I have no clue, actually, hahaha.”

The others found this just as funny as he did-- probably tipsy, making things a little less serious for a moment. He really had no clue where his home was. He wondered if they had maps here, and how accurate those would be. This was still Korea, right?

“I… I took a wrong turn… and now I am… here!” he wheezed, and one of them clapped Jisung's shoulder like he did something brave. “Guess where I ended up? In the Geumgangsan!”

“Have you thought about taking the same path, but backward?” one asked, and Jisung laughed so hard there were tears in his eyes.

“I had to do punishments for breaking in so I couldn’t even try! Have you guys ever been there?”

“Us regular folk? Not a chance! That’s a place for cultivators with three thousand rules!”

“Oh shit, you are right,” Jisung replied. “Tell me all of your opinions on cultivators. No need to spare words!”

The conversation didn’t get much that better, but at least he was having fun. When he opened the third jar, the drink didn’t taste like anything anymore. It was probably pretty potent, to have an effect like that on him. 

Again, they toasted. “To Master Minho!” they all shouted.

“Jisung.”

Jisung, who had just emptied the entire cup in one go, almost choked. Thankfully his throat worked despite the mortification – a silence had fallen around the table, several pairs of huge eyes staring at the imposing figure of Minho; right next to their table.

Where they had been complaining about haughty cultivators for a long while.

Oh, fuck.

Jisung slammed the cup onto the table, turning around to meet Minho’s blank stare.

“Minho!” he yelped, and wow, volume! That needed to go down.

Instead of answering, Minho gripped him by the forearm and just pulled him up from his seat, held somehow gently despite the forcefulness. Jisung stumbled next to him as he started pulling him away.

“You guys continue without me,” he whooped at the men they left behind, waving a hand. His wave was answered with raised cups and amused looks.

The stairs were a little difficult for his drunk state. It was mainly Minho’s hold on him that kept him from stumbling right back down to the floor where they started.

“Minho, are you mad at me?” he asked, but Minho only opened the door and pushed him inside.

The next second Jisung was sitting on his own bed while Minho quietly left to fetch something. A glass of water, it turned out, which he made Jisung drink before helping him pull off the outer robe. The sleeves were a little sticky – had he spilled liquor onto them at some point?

Then, with two layers of propriety covering him, Jisung was being pushed onto the bed, onto his side.

“I’m not going to puke and die.” Jisung told Minho, who still did not answer him, instead only pulled a blanket over the younger, tucking him in like a child, and then got up only to make Jisung grab his wrist.

“Jisung?” Minho spoke finally, a question in his voice.

“Minho,” Jisung said. He liked saying that name. “Minho. Don’t go.”

Minho, stiffened and unsure, stayed in place, half-up. Jisung pulled him back down by the wrist to sit on the edge of the bed. Surely this wasn’t inappropriate. Surely this wouldn’t tarnish anyone’s virtue.

“Minho, I miss home. I miss Yeji and Hyunjin.” he said, quietly, into the silence of the room.

Minho’s breathing wasn’t loud, but it was audible. It was calming. Jisung hung onto the sound of it.

“We used to watch tv and order cheesecake whenever I got very sad. I didn’t even have to tell them, they would just know. Hyunjin could read minds, I think,” he told Minho. “He felt so guilty when he went to Daegu. He pretended like he wasn’t but-- he was.”

Something was burning behind the lids, making him close his eyes.

“Minho…” he said, very quietly. His chest was hurting. “I miss my friends. And-- and I miss my brothers. Even though I have no right.”

He squeezed his eyes, and  there was definitely wetness dripping from the corners of his eyes, a little way down the skin to the pillow. A hand had found his hair, and was now gently petting it.

“I really don’t,” he choked, quietly and miserably.

He didn’t speak after that, just focused on the gentle strokes of the palm against his hair, gently smoothing it. Jisung didn’t notice falling asleep.