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It was just a party.

Anxiety sprawls through the young male's stomach as he quietly listens to the thoughts screaming in his ears. Your friends will be there, you're not going to be alone.

He wasn't sure if the thought of sitting in a corner of an unfamiliar house with an unknown beverage in his hand while music blared through his intrusive thoughts was particularly the reason he was so anxious, but he walked on anyway. With his hands in his hoodie pocket, beanie covering his fadingly-dyed hair, a single black piercing hanging from his right ear. Han Jisung strode towards this party begrudgingly, airpods resting in the crevice of his ears with music blasting away his nasty thoughts.

It was a birthday party after all, one he needed to be present for not because he wanted to, but because he promised.

"Hannie, please," His best friend Felix pleaded, his soft expression milking Han's choice out of him.

"Okay, fine. I'll come to your party." Felix hugged him, smiling cheerfully, but he suddenly pulled away with a devious look smeared across his face.

"Minho will be there." Han's chest seized.

"Felix-"

"You can try to talk to him!"

"Having a crush on the hottest dancer in the school is embarrassing enough, Lix."

"Who knows," Felix starts, shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe he likes you too."

The conversation holds Han's heart tight enough to let it sink into his stomach. He was anxious, but then again, he's always anxious.

Han met Minho in their advanced dance class in school four months ago. Minho was taller, lean, had an obsession with working out, but was also incredibly driven. Han had always thought he himself had practiced too much, staying in the dance studio well past curfew. But sometimes Minho would stay there with him wordlessly, practicing songs even Han didn't know.

Han admired his work ethic, but knew he was a perfectionist without even talking to him. Somehow, that admiration turned into a crush that was inescapable and he found his heart fluttering one day when he saw Minho in the studio sweating and working hard. His feet and body moved without hesitation, diving into movements Han had seen many times before. He couldn't help but watch with heat rising to his cheeks as his heart set on fire. Minho never talked to him, nor held a conversation with him. Han knew he'd have no chance.

But here he was, walking down the sidewalk and around a bend, biting his lip anxiously as he approached the party. His phone began to vibrate in the safety of his jeans pocket, stirring his attention away from the party and his thoughts. His hand reaches back to his pocket seamlessly, familiar in its track as his phone leaves the blue jean pocket and enters view. It was Felix.

"Are you almost here?"

"Yes" Han replies quickly, watching Felix read the message and begin to type a response, but he erases it. Han's brow raises in question, but he quiets his phone again and slides it back into his pocket.

It's only another two minutes before Han reaches the house thumping with loud music, people collectively standing in the front yard and on the porch. Han puts his airpods away, contemplates turning around, and begins to walk to the front door.

"Jisung!" A familiar voice calls to him, but it's not Felix. Han turns his head to see a friendly face calling to him, to which he smiles slightly. He turns a bit to the right, straying from his previous path to greet his friend.

"Jeongin," Han reaches his friends, taking note of everyone present before realizing that Minho was not here. Good.

"I'm glad you're here," Jeongin replies, looking to the person to his left.

"I really thought you weren't going to come," Hyunjin says sadly, then pouts afterwards, feeling a laugh tingle at the back of his throat.

"Why would you?" Han reaches over to Hyunjin and pushes his shoulder slightly, listening to him chuckle.

"It's just not your scene is all," Hyunjin was completely right. It's not. But here he was.

"Plus," Jeongin takes a sip of some sort of beverage in his red solo cup. "We all know who is here."

"Felix was already teasing me about it, and I'd prefer if you don't either." Han shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets, looking down at his converse pressed into the trampled grass.

"Not teasing, just, y'know-"

"You're teasing a little." Hyunjin looks at Jeongin for a second before Jeongin agrees.

"Yeah, a bit."

"Glad to see you agree. Now can someone lead me to the drinks? I am going to need one to survive tonight." Han watches a smile curl on Hyunjin's full lips, causing him to walk over to Han, sling an arm over his shoulders, and walk him up the porch steps. Jeongin follows behind them, drinking his alcoholic mixture quickly in hopes to get more once they reach the bar.

Hyunjin opens the front door to reveal a thicker crowd of people, dancing and drinking, music thumping louder as they close distance with the speakers. Han swallows his anxiety and follows Hyunjin thoughtlessly.

They walk into the kitchen, people scattering out the moment they enter, leaving just the three of them with empty alcohol bottles and cans askew across the countertops. Hyunjin searches for the next open bottle, searching through bottle after bottle until he stumbles across a full bottle of vodka. Han watches the entire process of Hyunjin making him some sort of vodka-based concoction, but his eyes drift to the doorway as Felix enters with someone else following him.

"Han!" Felix greets happily, but Han's stomach drops into his ass the moment he makes eye contact with the other person.

"Hey," Minho coldly greets, eyes searching across the faces of the trio before walking over to Hyunjin and asking him to pour more vodka in his glass.

"Hi," Han almost stutters, but he composes himself enough to remain steady even though his heart is racing.

"I see you found part of the gang," Felix eyes as his hands find the cluttered countertop. "Seungmin and Chan are here somewhere."

"Changbin is with some chick," Jeongin mutters, fingers tapping the empty solo cup in his hand.

"Of course he is." Hyunjin scoffs, turning around with Han's drink in hand and giving it to him. Han's hand takes the cold solo cup and takes a rather large swig, needing the liquid courage to even continue to participate in the conversation.

Suddenly, loud cheers erupt from the threshold of the living room, causing all of the boys to turn and look at Felix, who was peering out of the doorframe.

"Spin the bottle time," Felix smiles, waving his hand encouragingly. "C'mon!"

Everyone follows after gathering their drinks, Han being the last one out of the kitchen as he takes another swig.

The party continues in full swing as the group enters into the midst of the chaos, which stirs Han's attention towards Minho as he makes his way through the crowd effortlessly. Han follows in his tracks, afraid to bump into anyone as his anxiety takes a hold of him. His mind struggles to stay present as he blocks out the music and the conversations held by party-goers, but once he feels a hand grab his shoulder, his eyes dart upwards and his mind comes back to life.

"You good?" Minho questions softly as he looks at Han in the midst of a crowd, slight concern hidden in his gaze.

"Yeah, just zoned out." Han's heart flutters. Minho's eyes are dark with little interest in the conversation, but Han can feel the warmth from his hand. Minho turns around, hand fleeing as he walks away, and Han internally screams for the warmth back.

"Alright," Felix clears some space on the couch for his friends as he sets an empty bottle down on the coffee table. "Take a seat, let's go!" Felix settles down in the middle of the couch. To his left was Hyunjin. Jeongin settles in on the right after Minho and Han settles in on the end. Out of nowhere, Chan and Seungmin arrive, clearly intoxicated but ready to participate in the game nonetheless. Chan sits next to Hyunjin, and Seungmin forces his way next to Jeongin.

"Who's first?" Felix leans forwards, watching as Seungmin reaches for the bottle and spins. It spins and spins up until it lands on Chan.

"I was just with the guy!" He drunkenly protests, but Chan gets up and holds his hand out for Seungmin.

"C'mon pretty boy," Chan slurs his words as Seungmin's hand finds his and they walk away with a slight wobble.

"Wait," Han leans to Jeongin, voice in a whisper. "What version of this are we even playing?"

"Spin the bottle and whoever it lands on earns you seven minutes in heaven." Jeongin takes another drink, watching as Felix spins the bottle next.

Han watches nervously, watching the brown bottle turn and turn until it slows and points to Hyunjin. The boys look at eachother jokingly, trying to flirt with one another, but laughing through the pain of doing so. They stand and walk away, leaving Jeongin, Minho and Han to the table.

"Alright, let's finish this." Minho sighs, hand grabbing the bottle. Han can't help his anxiety as he interrupts suddenly, catching both boys off-guard.

"Wait!" He breathes. "What happens to the odd one out?"

"They get to make sure everyone comes back on time and makes everyone's drinks," Jeongin slowly offers, to which Minho agrees and Han doesn't bother to protest.

Minho spins the bottle and Han watches with a pit in his stomach. Please not me, please not me. He closes his eyes nervously, hand struggling to not crush his solo cup sweating in his palm. But as he listens to the bottle stop turning, his eyes blink open and the scene ahead of him takes the breath from his lungs. His eyes greet the sight of an empty bottle pointing directly at him, and he feels vomit surging in his throat.

"Let's go," Minho stands and holds out his hand coldly. Han hesitates for a second, drinking more out of the remainder of his cup before setting it down and taking Minho's hand.

"Have fun!" Jeongin teases, earning a worried glance from Han as the boys trail through the hall and up the stairs. Han's hand sits lightly in Minho's as he grips it gently, leading him through people standing on the staircase and into the hallway, peering into room after room until they settle on the last free room. Minho stops before the door, allowing Han to go into the room first. Han scans his dark environment, eyes moving from the white comforter over the bed, fluffed gray pillows and to a white dresser. His heart thumps into his stomach, hearing the door close behind him.

"Listen, you don't have to kiss me or-" Han turns around, arms crossed nervously.

"I don't want to pressure you into anything. We can either do something, or we can do nothing." Minho responds, almost a sense of affection tuned into his voice. Han sighs to himself, listening to the options ahead of him as he thinks into the thought of each one.

"I-I don't like the pressure of that," Han shakes his head, hands gripping his sleeves. "Can we. . . can we maybe just see where it goes?" Han's eyes dart down quickly, in fear of rejection or disgust. He didn't know Minho all that well. He didn't know if he was the kiss and tell type or the 'fucks around' type. He just knew he liked him and his pretty brunette hair, and hoped that Minho wouldn't be angry with him.

"If that's what you want." Minho agrees to his surprise, walking towards the bed and sitting down. Han follows him, sitting next to him, but not very closely.

"I didn't think you'd agree to any of this," Han admits lightly, arms uncrossing and hands settling inside of his hoodie pocket.

"Why not?"

"Well, you know," Han doesn't know how to say what he wants to without sounding like a judgemental asshole. "You're you."

"I'm me?" Minho rolls his eyes. "That's a great answer."

"No, I mean that we don't know each other enough." Han looks over to Minho, watching him look ahead, unbothered and almost uninterested.

"We do have class together," Minho admits, but Han surprisingly rebuts.

"But that's it. You know my friend group but we've never properly talked."

"Fair." Minho's hands settle on his thighs and Han's eyes struggle to glance away.

"This is just so weird." Han begins and Minho remains quiet. "How the hell did I end up here?"

"I know you like me, Jisung." Minho is incredibly straight forward. Han's throat closes.

"H-how do you know?" Han's anxiety speaks for him as his words tumble from his mouth.

"It's not a secret, really." Minho sighs, surprisingly calm and comfortable. Han doesn't reply and remains quiet, listening to Minho speak again. "It's kinda cute."

CUTE? Han's eyes widen slightly as he stares into the carpeted floor, hands gripping the inside of his hoodie tightly. He can't believe what he just heard, struggling to find composure as Minho chuckles at him.

"We don't have long left, Jisung." Minho sighs, his hand reaching over as a finger is placed under Han's chin. Han follows Minho's pointer finger submissively like a dog, looking into the brown eyes that look back at him. "Do you want to kiss me or no?"

Han doesn't know how to respond. He struggles to stay still, anxiety trembling through his veins as the decision ahead of him threatens to change his life. Should he choose to kiss Minho, he can finally act on his crush, kissing the handsome boy from his dance class. Or, should he choose not to kiss Minho, he might regret it for the rest of his life. This could be his one and only chance, but he doesn't know if he can convince himself to do it.

His entire life was spent longing for something. He knew his life was missing something, but he could never pinpoint what it was. Felix had always claimed it was love, but Han was too scared to ever commit to something that could burst into flames. He was sensitive and reserved, always protecting his fragile heart because he knew it was made of glass. One wrong move and it could break into pieces.

But as Han struggles to answer, Minho grows impatient and closes the gap. His finger shies away from Han's chin, turning his hand to gently cup Han's jaw as he leans in close and presses his lips to Han's.

Stuck in his head, Han doesn't realize the close proximity of Minho until he can taste his lips. Han wants to pull away, nearly afraid, but the kiss melts into a warmth that sets his stomach on fire, Minho's hand preventatively keeping him from pulling away.

It's innocent. It's calm and quiet behind the closed door as the party raged on in the background. Six minutes had passed, leaving their soft kiss to engulf the last minute before a few knocks rang out on their door.

"Seven minutes is up, love birds!" Felix turns the door knob, unaware of the moment he just killed as Minho pulled away and his hand fell to his lap. Han was completely confused and enamored, hand reaching up to touch his own freshly-kissed lips.

"Love birds?" Minho rolls his eyes and gets up from the bed. "You're one to talk after you've been fawning over Hyunjin for the last couple of months."

"Felix?" Han's confusion crosses paths with Felix's gaze, which lingers longer than he'd like. "How could you not tell me that?"

"Hurry up and come back down!" Felix leaves quicker than he came, turning heel and rushing down the hall. Felix always talked about not being interested in anyone and always wanted to pry into Han's love life, never his own. Han never questioned Felix about this, so maybe he just forgot to ask?

"Well," Minho holds out his hand for Han as he looks at the now open door. "Let's go back."

"What do we say to everyone?" Han reaches for Minho's hand, grabbing onto him and standing from the bed.

"We can say nothing, or we can say we kissed. I'll follow you." Minho assures as his hand feels the warmth from Han's. His hand moves around slightly before interlocking their grasp, almost an affirmation that it wasn't just a game to him, there were actual feelings involved.

Han gently squeezes Minho's hand, following him out of the room and through the hall.

Han could hear his friends on the floor below, laughing and ranting, listening to the music quiet down as the song ended. Han's heart flutters as Minho's grip doesn't leave him, but instead persists on staying. Before entering the threshold of the room, Minho stops and looks at Han. Han knew the decision he had to make, and for the sake of his anxiety, he let go of Minho's hand. Minho looked at him, and what Han feared would be resentment or judgment, laid eyes that told a story of understanding. Han smiles at him, then enters the room with Minho behind him.

"Welcome back you two," Chan holds his solo cup in the air, face flushed and eyes red. He was drunk.

"How was your seven minutes?" Jeongin pries lightly, but Han shrugs.

"It wasn't. We just talked."

"Aw, come on!" Felix protests, earning slight laughter from Hyunjin as they sit very closely to one another.

"I'm not drunk enough for this," Han suggests, trying to stay as oblivious as he can remain with the knowledge of what happened behind a closed door. Minho says nothing and takes a drink from a cup resting on the table.

"Then get drunk!" Hyunjin laughs, feeling Felix rest his head on his shoulder. Hyunjin leans his head on Felix's, laughing still.

Han looks at Minho and Minho looks away. Don't be too obvious.

"I want to do shots," Chan drunkenly slurs, but Seungmin interferes.

"No you don't," Seungmin reaches over and grabs Chan's drink, downing the rest of its contents himself before crushing the cup and throwing it on the floor.

"Seungmin!" Chan breathes shockingly, but Seungmin laughs.

Han grabs his cup from earlier, downing the rest of his drink before wandering away to get more. He doesn't realize that he's talking more the more alcohol he consumes, but as the words tumble out, the drinks tumble in, blurring his mind and causing his anxiety to simmer.

This continues for the next two hours. Han drinks and talks, laughing and playing games as if he wasn't just anxiety-ridden before entering indoors. Minho watches him carefully and notices his pattern, taking his final drink from his cup and remaining sober the rest of the night.

"Han," Minho taps the shorter male on the shoulder, listening to him giggle at Felix at Hyunjin. "It's 2 a.m."

"What's your point?" Han turns and faces him, cheeks rounded with a tint of redness.

"You probably need to get home," Minho suggests, taking the almost empty cup from Han's hand. Han barely puts up a fight as he looks at Minho drunkenly.

"I don't wanna go home." Han sighs. "Home isn't good."

"Why isn't it good?"

"There's always yelling and fighting. I just wanna be with my friends." Han tries to turn back around, but Minho's hand on his shoulder prevents him from moving.

"Yelling?" Minho's stomach twists with concern, but Han laughs it off.

"Don't worry about it," Han waves it off, reaching for his cup in Minho's free hand, but Minho keeps it away.

"Let's go home, Jisung." Minho tries to convince him again, but Han refuses.

"I'm having fun. Have fun with me!" Han tilts his head sideways and Minho's heart melts.

"Let's have fun going to bed. You need rest."

"No," Han coos, but Minho sighs.

"Hannie," Minho tries to coo back, catching Han's attention immediately. Han's face deepens in blush, eyes transfixed as if he was under Minho's spell. Minho entangles their hands, says bye to Felix, and heads for the door.

Bright light emanates from unfamiliar curtains as Han wakes to a raging migraine. His eyes blink awake with a throbbing head, a groan slightly releasing from his lips as he rises from soft pillows and becomes aware of his surroundings. His eyes scan the room, looking at a clean, modern room with little clutter or mess. A few pictures were hung in the room of landscapes in Seoul, but otherwise remained empty, highlighting the light gray paint coating its walls.

The black comforter is removed from over his legs as his hand greets his aching forehead. Han glances over his arms, unaware of the night's previous activities. His hoodie was thrown off and on the end of the bed, to which he panics and looks at himself again. To his relief, he still had almost all of his clothes on. Thank god I wasn't a complete idiot.

"Jisung?" A knock at the door surprises Han enough to grab the cover and hide his uncovered legs. The door opens to reveal Minho, bare-faced and sleepy, a bottle of ibuprofen in his hand with a bottle of water squeezed between his arm and chest.

"Oh," Han quiets his sudden rush of anxiety, settling into the mattress with a wave of comfort. He's cute when he's tired. "Is this your room?"

"You were too drunk last night," Minho closes the door behind him with his foot, handing the bottle of water and medicine over to his awoken friend. "You wouldn't give me your address."

"Sorry." I'm glad I didn't.

"You told me you didn't want to go home," Minho sits on the edge of the bed, his hand ruffling through his hair.

"What did I say?" Han questions timidly, opening the bottle of water, eyes never leaving Minho.

"You told me there was yelling." Minho tells him the truth without wavering, his tone groggy but honest.

"Shit," Han sighs, taking a drink of cold water. "Ignore what I said."

"Should I?" Minho looks at Han with concern, a look Han hasn't seen cross his eyes more than once.

"I-" Han closes the cap of his bottle and looks at his hands. "My parents are divorcing."

Minho remains quiet. Han allows himself to fidget with the medicinal bottle, listening to the pills jostle around inside. Minho timidly reaches his hand over and rests it on Han's calf. An invitation of an unspoken apology, weary of Han's reaction to his sudden touch.

Han doesn't move. He feels the weight of Minho's hand through the comforter and smiles slightly. "They just fight a lot."

"I see."

"They don't like. . . hurt me. They just argue. They always have."

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Minho tilts his head and he looks at his own hand, his thumb autonomously moving in a gentle brushing pattern.

"It's okay, I just don't talk about it often."

"Okay, then let's talk about yesterday." Minho offers to change the subject and Han breathes a sigh of relief.

"If you regret kissing me, I get it-"

"Hannie," Minho interrupts softly. His voice is gentle now, still deep and tired, but laced with something new. Han stops talking and looks up to Minho.

"Sorry."

"I don't regret it." Minho says quietly.

"You don't. . ?" Han questions anxiously, unsure, but Minho sighs.

"I don't." The air between the boys is thick with tension, but Han scoots closer, setting the pill bottle down to his right with the water bottle resting between his legs.

"So what does that mean?"

"Listen," Minho struggles for a second, unsure of his approach. His jaw tenses, almost for a second can you see him rethinking everything present in this moment, but he relaxes nearly immediately. "I don't do relationships. I don't have deep friendships or bonds, I just exist with others. This is new to me. I thought it was possible I was aromantic for a while, but I guess I needed to meet someone to change my point of view."

"I changed you?"

Minho chuckles. "You didn't change me after one kiss. I just see you differently than I've seen everyone else."

"We don't have to date or anything, Minho." Han looks down, admittedly afraid of labeling feelings connected between the two of them.

"I honestly don't know if I'm ready for that." Minho takes an uneasy breath, exploring new territory with unfamiliar grounds. His hand reaches over Han's legs and lands on his thigh, palm facing upwards with an invitation. Han removes his hand from his side, resting in an entangled state with Minho's. Minho squeezes Han's hand affirmingly.

"I'll wait. We don't have to label anything."

"I'm okay with that," Minho says and stops, ready to say more but his heart won't let him.

"But?" Han catches his sudden change in tone as he moves through the uneasy emotions tied to his heart.

"I'm not exactly. . .out yet." Minho nervously swallows, avoiding eye contact and suddenly showing a vulnerability Han didn't know he had.

"That's okay. We don't have to be open about this either." Han leans down, trying to catch sight of Minho's gaze, but he avoids him. He struggles with the tale of his vulnerable truth, but manages to stay calm and hold Han's hand a little tighter.

"You're being so understanding," Minho questions, his usual tone returning to him. "Why?"

"I was like you once. I know what it's like." Minho nods as Han affirms his feelings. The sun continues to shine through Minho's partially open curtains, not nearly as blinding as it once was. Han continues to look at Minho, his thumb tracing lines up and down Minho's thumb. His heart was fluttering, eyes looking with admiration towards his new friend. I really like him.

"Are you hungry?" Minho asks, turning back towards Han.

"Starving."