40: Aviothic

The moonlight guided his steps as he walked, the ground echoing the weight of his boots. An ache nestled beneath his heart, an ache like nothing else. If this was something that could have been ripped apart, Jisung, without thinking, would have done that. 

Jisung wondered if the world out there would look exactly the way it had when he’d left; too busy for him, too fixated on things he could not find important.

He’d surely have a lot to figure out when he got back. Where he could live. Things concerning his studies. A job.

He hung onto the thought of seeing his loved ones again. Hyunjin and Yeji, and if he’d been forgiven even just a bit, maybe even Felix.

That thought soothed a bit, but not enough to forgetting this world that gave him so many memories . Jisung was good at adapting. He was sure he would adapt to that pain as well.

So Jisung kept walking.

And walking.

And walking.

The forest enveloped him in a blanket of serene sounds, muted by the night's embrace and the slumbering wildlife. His robes swayed with each step. Over time, he had grown fond of those cumbersome garments and thhe thought of going back to jeans and hoodies stirred mixed emotions within him.

He kept walking.

Yet at some point, Jisung realised that he had walked for at least twenty minutes, and nothing had happened.

The moon in the sky was still a moon and not a lamp, and the rocks beneath him did not resemble concrete.

Jisung stopped. He stared at the path before him, really looked at it, and realised something; the path led upwards. He wasn’t going down the mountain at all.

When he squinted, he could see the entrance to the Lee residence looming in the distance. Ready for him to enter. 

He couldn't believe what he was seeing—the same entrance he'd passed through a year ago into the world of cultivators. He stared at it, then let out a dry, involuntary laugh that rang through the forest.

It wouldn’t be that simple, would it? A fated meeting indeed. What kind of a moron would fight against fate?

He hesitated, then took another uncertain step forward. And another. With his heart pounding wildly and his head spinning, Jisung summoned the courage to walk up to the entrance and passed through it, his legs trembling beneath him.

Up a wall, against the shine of moonlight, was the most ridiculously handsome man Jisung had ever seen. It was still true, after a year. His white robes were still glowing in the dark, his black hair swishing as he turned around to land those golden eyes on Jisung, who stood there facing him again.

Red-rimmed, so endlessly sad. There were still teardrops glimmering in his dark lashes.

“Jisung?” Minho asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“Minho,” Jisung said, and then continued like an idiot, “I didn’t know you’d cry.”

Minho blinked. Then shook his head like he was shaking off the stupidity of that comment, landing before him with a noiseless, graceful leap.

“Jisung, why did you come back?”

How many times has Jisung been begging the universe to jump in these past few days? How many times had he agonised over leaving, over having to go without Minho, to his awful, sad, miserable life back in the modern world?

Why had he been so sure fate had set him to go back in the first place?

A year after their fateful meeting, and here he was still led to Minho, always to Minho.

Jisung looked at his soulmate’s beautiful face, the expression on it more open than it had been in a while. His heart had locked itself in his throat.

“I don’t think I can,” he said then, truthfully. A little shakily. “I don’t think I can leave without you. But-- Minho, I couldn't bear to ask that of you."

Minho furrowed his perfect brows, taking a step closer. “It would not work either way.”

And the ache in his chest intensified, as if it might rupture at any moment. Jisung was certain his expression mirrored Minho's; one of desperation, with eyes red and glossy.

“I know,” he said quietly into the night air. “I know, and it’s honestly killing me, but I don’t think the universe will let me go without you. I don’t think I even want to go without you.”

Minho halted, frozen in a place with the words. A statue carved of jade. “Jisung?”

“It’s so stupid. I’m so stupid, but Minho, I don’t want to go. Why would I want to leave when you’re here?”

The frown on that beautiful face deepened. “I do not understand.”

"Minho, my Minho, do you want me to say it out loud?" He drew in a shaky breath, the weight of longing hanging heavy in the air. "I love you. I love you so much." His voice quivered with a mix of pain and joy, the culmination of emotions finally finding release. "I would do anything to make you feel the same way about me too."

It was not difficult to discern expressions in the brightness of the moon, even if everything had a blue filter over it. The moment Minho heard these words, however, his face turned glass-like, undecipherable.

There appeared a line between Minho’s brows. “What do you mean? You do not...”

Jisung frowned back, uncertain, pulling his arms back to cross them over his chest. Like covering the heart would somehow stop it from hurting. “You...you already knew that I do.”

“I did not,” Minho said, his tone ringing hollow. It was as though he was rethinking everything he had ever known.

“What,” Jisung said. “But-- but I flirt with you so much. All the time. It’s so obvious.”

“You flirt with everyone.”

Jisung gasped, getting a little indignant. “No, I don’t! I-I mean, sometimes, maybe, but it doesn’t mean anything! I’m always all over you, how could you miss that? I’m touching you all the time!”

“You are a very tactile person,” Minho said, and it somehow sounded like something he’d been repeating often.

“Not that tactile,” Jisung insisted. “God, Minho, I got drunk all the time to get an excuse to sleep in the same bed with you!”

“Excuse?”

"Yes! I seized every opportunity to be near you! You're constantly on my mind," Jisung confessed, a hint of desperation in his voice as he ran his fingers through his hair. "You’re the sexist and hottest person I know! The best, the kindest, the one whose reactions and opinions I value the most – Minho! I love you so much!"

“You...” Minho blinked, eyes still uncomprehending. Then he shook his head as if shaking the thought off, “Jisung. You never wanted to acknowledge our fated meeting or the soulmate bond.” and Jisung shit his mouth, a heat of shame creeping to his cheeks as he remembered all the chaos he created by ignoring the concept.

A pretty dumb move on his part, sure.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with that, you were always so mad over things when it came to romance.” The look on Minho’s face turned almost disbelieving as he stared at Jisung’s despairing face.

“Yes,” he said with an emphasis, “when it came to Jisung being with other people.”

Jisung, eyes wide, felt his wildly beating heart speed up even more at that. Like it was attempting to go through his chest.

Mouth dry, he asked; “What?”

Minho eyes are now staring at Jisung with something newly alight in him, something that was perhaps making a place beside the ache inside Jisung as well.

“Jisung. What does ‘love’ mean?” he asked, and Jisung prayed that he could hear the hope in that deep voice.

“I...”

“Does it mean the same in your world as it does in ours?” Minho asked, taking a step closer.

“Minho,” Jisung said, feeling wetness glazing over his eyes, ready to pool over. “Of course it does. Obviously it does.”

“Then...” The look on Minho’s face was still one of uncertainty, one of disbelief. “You return my feelings.”

Jisung's heart might have skipped a beat, or perhaps shattered into a million tiny fragments, each one representing the sheer disbelief of hearing those words from Minho's lips. This was so unreal. No way – just, no way.

“Your feelings?” he rasped.

The tone of voice was now imploring. “Jisung.”

“No way,” Jisung said. Staring at Minho, his Minho, whose feelings he apparently returned.  Not made to reconsider. Not  caused to develop just now. Returned. “No way. I don’t luck out like this, ever. No way.”

“Jisung,” Minho pleaded.

Jisung hid his face in his palms, rubbing his eyes. “Please tell me I haven’t wasted a year pining away when I could’ve slept next to you every night.”

There was the slightest of pauses, tiniest of silences. Then, softly; “Lying is forbidden.”

Jisung let out a burst of laughter. For the man to start joking now, now of all times!  Jisung was going to lose his mind. He laughed, tears spilling over, hands still covering his face.

What kind of fate was this, huh? An emotional rollercoaster for a clueless college student and his equally oblivious soulmate from different dimensions? Had they truly been so dense as to tiptoe around their feelings for a whole year, not realising the potential between them?

He brushed away the tears and glanced at Minho, his Minho, whose face now radiated wonder, warmth, and a gentleness that filled Jisung with a sense of hope he hadn't realised was absent until it illuminated Minho's features.

There, for a second, was the slightest of smiles on his lips, watching Jisung’s hysterical laughter. The most beautiful thing Jisung had ever witnessed.

He sniffled. “Fuck. Minho, you made me lose my breath. Come here and kiss me already?” Minho, so good at following orders, did.

Jisung had imagined that scenario a few too many times. Minho wrapped his arm around Jisung’s waist, pulling him close. With his other hand, he slid behind Jisung's neck, pressing his lips softly against Jisung’s in the gentlest, most loving kiss imaginable.

The reality was better than anything he could dream.

The kiss was shakier than expected, but deeply heartfelt. It was Minho's first, and tears streamed down their faces, making it wetter than usual since the two of them were crying like babies .

Yet, despite the tears, it was the most romantic and best kiss Jisung had ever experienced. His lips tingle, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions, and as Minho's warmth enveloped him, Jisung felt like he might faint from the intensity of his feelings

As Jisung parted his lips with a soft exhale, the kiss intensified. Feeling the shift, Jisung immediately gripped Minho's shoulders tighter, pulling him closer. In response, Minho enveloped him in his embrace, his arms sculpted from countless hours of training, perfectly fitting Jisung's form.

Minho's hand gently slid up from Jisung's neck into his hair, firm but tender. Jisung welcomed the touch, wishing it would tug just a little harder. He made a mental note to bring it up with Minho when they had a chance to explore their desires further.

Minho’s other hand was gripping his waist tightly, then, and when they finally broke apart for air, both gasping and flushed, Jisung had to try and pull back from that hold entirely.

“Minho~” Jisung whined when the latter would not let up. “You can’t take me in the middle of the courtyard, and if we don’t stop then that is absolutely where this is going to end.”

The look in Minho’s eyes turned somehow even more heated, his grip tightening momentarily at the words. Then, like sense had finally caught up with him, he exhaled and pulled back.

Minho’s lips were red and kiss-swollen. Jisung attempted to not get stuck on that.

“Minho,” he said then, quietly. Still exhilarated, still high on happiness he thought had been out of reach but that he’d somehow managed to grasp. “Minho, I have to go. At least for a year.”

Minho nodded, eyes bright, even if a little bloodshot still. “Mn, we will go together.”

That other feeling in his chest had now fully taken over the ache, pulsing pleasantly in the place of it. Jisung thought it might’ve been complete adoration.

“Can you leave your duties? Just like that? Minho, you don’t even have the time to say goodbye to anyone.” 

“Mn. Brother will take care of that.”

Jisung gasped. “Minho! Your brother! You need to say goodbye to him at least!”

“He didn't expect me to return after seeing you off," Minho admitted, averting his gaze, a hint of embarrassment colouring his tone. "I think he understood. That you wouldn't be able to leave without me.”

Jisung shook his head. “More likely that he knew I was head-over-heels in love with you. Minho, I’m so in love with you.”

Minho's breath caught, and then he kissed Jisung again, with a sense of urgency and expertise that suggested he had mastered the art for being a first timer. How was Minho so good at this? Or was Jisung just really easy?

The bastard nibbled gently at his lip, and Jisung moaned and had to struggle his way off again.

“Minho!” he gasped. “We need to stay focused!”

“Mn,” said Minho in a very unfocused manner as he stared at Jisung’s lips, which were probably looking pretty indecent right about then.

“Minho, do you need anything? Do you need to pack? We need to go, you know, the time’s running out,” Minho blinked, gaze flickering off Jisung’s lips to his eyes. He then shook his head. 

“No. Only need Jisung.”

Jisung's breath hitched, and he abruptly pulled away as to not succumb to the now clearly understandable and appropriate response to that, which was kissing Minho senseless.

 He smacked his hands onto his cheeks, then, trying to get his head to start working again after that. It was surreal. He had just kissed Minho, who was also into him, who was willing to accompany him to the modern world.

Jisung’s entire being was giddy. He shook his head. Let out an exhale. Then turned to his beautiful, beloved soulmate.

“Would you hold my hand, then?” Jisung said, and Minho intertwined their fingers without hesitation. Jisung felt choked up with happiness. Minho looked back with quite a similar look.

“Then let's go. I have also got everything with me that I need.”

“Mn.” Minho squeezed his hand, and Jisung squeezed back.

Then they went right past the entrance, walked the path down the mountain, and at some point they must’ve taken the wrong turn because suddenly the moon was a street lamp, and the darkness of the night was broken with lights, and the noise of the streets of Seoul surrounded them all around.

But with Minho’s hand in his, it was alright.

________

... Fine I didn't have the heart to keep you guys waiting.