By the plexuses of fate

It's hard with Jisung. His parents take him to Seoul the very next day, Minho only manages to promise that will come to support him before the first reception. Jisung's eyes are round with fear and his palms are sweaty as he clings to the sleeve of Minho's sweatshirt, asking in a low voice to write him at least something during these three days of separation. The elder one only raises his eyebrows, but nods — can't help himself. This boy already holds his heart in hands and with the slightest movement can tame, subdue, and Minho will not go anywhere. It's good that no one knows about it yet. It's hard with Jisung. Minho finds out that he was taken to Seoul under heavy sleeping pills because the fear of cars could not go anywhere. Jisung's hands are shaking with panic, his shoulders are pressed together so that his figure becomes even more fragile, even weaker, and voice trembles when he looks into Minho's eyes and timidly asks: — Hyung, maybe don't need to?.. But they are standing right in front of the rehabilitologist's office. A few meters away, respectfully giving them space, Jisung's parents are nervous, and Minho has his first day of work after vacation and the understanding, that if he does not move in the next couple of minutes, will be late. It's hard with Jisung. Therefore, Minho, perhaps more rudely than he should, squeezes shoulders with strong fingers and says clearly: — No, Sungie, you have to. You're going to go, damn it, and do it. Jisung blushes from the diminutive nickname that flew out of hyung so easily, and he does not pay attention to Minho's next slip (a little later, he puts hand to forehead with a groan, because blurted out about «going» again), nor to the fact that his parents fussily push him into the office. Jisung comes to senses only when comes face to face with his fear — the doctor sitting across from him. In the evening, a couple of hours after the reception, Jisung writes a small but succinct message «Hyung, I almost died there», then adds «Oh God, I have to go there three times a week» and a very sad «I can't sleep, hyung :((». Minho takes a deep breath. Up to the moment when he admitted to himself that he liked the younger one, everything was going great (maybe he was lying to himself), and now allows himself to be manipulated with just a couple of words. «Call», — he writes and moves to the sofa, turning off the light in the room. An incoming call flashes on the screen after a few seconds, and Minho can't help but smile wearily. Jisung will drive him crazy. — Let's take it in order, — he says as soon as he receives the call. A loud sigh is heard on the other side, and then Jisung explodes. — Hyung, — whines plaintively into the speaker. — Hyung, hyung, hyung, I honestly thought I was going to die on the spot. My God, why do all doctors have such a stern look? I felt like he was drilling right into me, and it was just a trial reception!.. Hyung, hyung! — He screams with double force. — Can you imagine, he said that he would need to check the sensitivity of legs. What if he sticks huge needles in me?! Hyung, I really don't want to-o-o!.. Minho barely restrains himself from giggling: Jisung is as genuinely excited as exaggerates his own impressions. Minho takes a deep breath to calm down. — Jisung-ah, — he says softly, settling back comfortably and closing his eyes. — What are you? This isn't the first time you're going to get checked out, is it? Try to remember what happened last time? The slightly puzzled silence on the other side is broken by an uncertain voice: — Well, in different ways, perhaps? We went to many clinics. A-an-and there were needles too, but they were small and I, uh, didn't feel anything? There were also... oh, you know, funny vibration sensitivity devices. I was even tickled at the strongest power... — Jisung pauses for a moment. — Hyung, I'm an idiot, right? This time, Minho can't help but chuckle, and then freezes when hears Jisung's disappointed groan. — Now I'm pretty sure I'm an idiot, — the younger one grumbles. — I made... made it all out of nothing, didn't I? Oh my God, I told you such nonsense. Now you definitely think I'm stupid… What am I saying again! Hyung, I'm sorry, I probably… — Sungie, — Minho interrupts him, smiling broadly and listening to the silence that immediately fell. Jisung is probably blushing and cupping his cheeks in hands, as always does. — You're doing the same thing again. After a short pause, the unintelligible sounds: — Hyung, you're the worst! Minho allows himself to laugh, enjoying the quiet swarming from the smartphone speaker. He gives Jisung a few minutes to calm down — oh, the younger one is so damn impressionable — and continues. — But if it's true, Jisung, — Minho returns voice to a serious tone. — You couldn't tell me anything terrible yourself, see? It's just, uh, the psychological stuff of the human body. — I'm winding myself up, — Jisung agrees with a sigh. — I really want to... want to get back on my feet. Hyung, I want this so much! — he shouts with fervor, and then seems to deflate like a balloon. — But these are, as you say, psychological things. It's like it turned into an instinct to be afraid right away if something about my legs doesn't go the way I expected. I do not know how to deal with this, hyung. If I had known... If I had known, I would have done something long ago. And once again, the part of him that is sane and reasonable beyond years, wakes up in Jisung. Although, Minho thinks, he's just used to seeing Jisung as a dongseng. After all, the difference between them is only two years, which is quite small, so the elder needs to stop discounting him. — I will hope that I can help you in some way, — Minho says sincerely. — And that everything I'm saying here is not in vain, and you believe in my words. — I believe, — Jisung immediately confirms and, embarrassed by his outburst, puts himself in an even more awkward position: — Thank you, hyung. You're not the worst, you're the best. Realizing that he has given it away, Jisung squeaks something about it being time for him to go to bed, wishes good night and instantly disconnected the call, and Minho, chuckling, sends him «Sweet dreams, Sungie». He's pretty sure that Jisung will stare at the message for a long time and maybe blush with his chubby cheeks. But at some point, Minho suddenly breaks out in a cold sweat. Why is he even sure that Jisung feels anything for him in return? Why does perceive his reaction as the reaction of a person in love, and not just such an embarrassing nature?.. Doongie is poking at his side, who, along with Soonie and Dori, Minho took away from Chan and Jeongin immediately upon arrival. The cat's soul demands love and food, and Minho trudges through the dark apartment — too lazy to turn on the light — to the kitchen. The only thing he does light up is a garland given by Hyunjin, which is illuminated and stretched under the kitchen set. The lights twinkle, mesmerizing the cats who came running, and giving Minho time to chop the chicken cooked in the morning. While the pets, pushing easily, are taken for a treat, he cooks himself something that vaguely resembles cocoa (perhaps he overdid it with cinnamon or cloves, because the taste leaves much to be desired). Minho takes the phone out of the room and, sitting on a high chair in the kitchen, dials a message to Felix. He asked to tell him how the reception would be, because he couldn't come himself — seems that he is somewhere in Busan or so, because his aunt lives there; and Minho is sure that Jisung forgot to write himself in his worries. He briefly describes Jisung's condition and, while waiting for an answer, turns his gaze to the darkness of the street outside the window. The message from Felix arrives quickly, as it always does. «I'm very afraid that he won't be able to stand it mentally in the end», — it reads. Minho frowns because thinks the same way. «Too. Do you think we can help?» «You can definitely do it. Hyung, you know you're the first person Jisung's let in after all this time, right?» Okay, maybe Minho wasn't ready to start this conversation today. «I know.» «I can already feel how unhappy you are about this topic :) Just please stay with Jisung until the end. You've become something more to him.» Minho's heart skips a beat when he reads the last sentence. Fingers don't obey when he types in the answer. «What do you mean, Lix?» «Consider that I didn't tell you this, hyung, but I really want to help Jisung. You give him a lot of strength. More than any of us. Keep doing it, please.» Doesn't get any clearer. Minho absently strokes the withers of Dori, who has jumped on his lap, and decides that he should go to bed early to think about everything with a fresh head. «I'll try. Good night, Lix.» He leaves the reply unread, because fatigue is piling on him in a merciless avalanche. Minho really falls into bed without even washing the mug after himself, and the images of today begin to whirl in his head. He remembers the warm welcome of the girls when he returned to the dance studio after vacation; Hyunjin's jokes that he didn't look particularly rested («Did you really find something more interesting for yourself than just lying on the beach, huh, hyung? Who... oh, I'm sorry, what made you so exhausted?»); and both conversations with Jisung — morning and evening. It takes an hour to fall asleep. Minho manages to come to the disappointing conclusion that there's just too much Jisung in his life (but whether it's bad or not — he doesn't know). What a pity, that Minho can't get to the sea as easily now as did at home. What a pity.

***

The thought that there is a lot of Jisung in his life does not prevent Minho from spending even more time with him than before. They text each other in the mornings and evenings, wishing each other a nice day and good night. On his days off from work, Minho go to the Hans' apartment, where he finally gets out from Jisung that he actually studies at the university at the production department and is now just on academic leave. They dig out a stack of last year's notebooks in the closet, where Minho finds vaguely familiar ones among a pile of various scribbles – after all, both Chan and Changbin also studied to be music producers. It is not worth much effort to arouse interest in an abandoned profession in Jisung — he himself admits that it is boring to sit at home alone. Felix writes that he is also going to return to study, so spends all his free time repeating the material; the Han couple disappears at work because a lot of money is spent on rehabilitation (it's damn awkward for Jisung, but he remembers the relief in mother's eyes when he decided to recover). Minho really tries to come more often, but so far he can't do it more often than twice on weekdays and once on weekends. At the next meeting, when their stay in Seoul exceeds a month, Jisung hesitates, but asks: — Hyung, can you help me get something out of the pantry? — Sure. In this apartment, Jisung moves by himself, calmly handling the wheels, so Minho slowly follows the younger one. He opens the door to the pantry, flipping the switch, and looks around at the shelves littered with necessary and unnecessary junk. — That one, the dark gray one, — Jisung finds what he wants at a glance and pokes at the box on the second shelf above. — Don't drop it, please. — Only if with myself, — Minho jokes. — Move away, I'll get a chair. The box both looks and turns out to be weighty. Minho has to lift it up as carefully as possible, as well as get down from the chair — Jisung watches his actions, biting lip with excitement. — Shall I bring it to you? — The elder asks, confidently standing on the floor. Jisung nods, and they return to the room together. The box is unpacked for a long time and carefully. Minho, in order not to embarrass Jisung, sits down on the bed and pretends to stick to the phone, while he surreptitiously watches the enthusiastic younger one. One by one, Jisung takes out of the box strange devices with a bunch of buttons and levers, the same bunch of wires, a stack of notebooks (presumably musical-notes) and a laptop — Minho is especially surprised at it, because Jisung already has a good and obviously gaming PC on the table. The laptop looks a little pathetic against its background. — This?.. — Minho can't stand it and comes closer. — Songwriting equipment, — Jisung smiles a little stiffly. He pushes the empty box off the table and, thoughtfully looking at the things laid out, begins deftly connecting them to each other. — Wait, — Minho says belatedly. — Do you write songs? Jisung, you little shit, you write songs and you didn't tell me anything? We haven't been apart for two months, so the «You didn't ask» excuse won't work! Jisung suddenly grunts with laughter, because this is the first time he has seen such an outraged Minho. He continues to chuckle as connects the wires, and the table slowly begins to take on the appearance of a normal workplace. — You're so funny, hyung, — he snorts. — Firstly, I would not be able to confirm my words to you with anything — all the blanks are stored only here, — Jisung slaps the laptop lid, and then is embarrassed, but continues. — Secondly, hyung, would you tell the first person you meet about your secret hobby? The same dancing on the beach, huh, hyung? And even Felix doesn't know about it.… Jisung turns away, trying to hide reddened ears, and Minho hangs for a while, trying to figure out how to react: whether to be outraged that he was called the first person meet, or to be glad that he is still special. As a result, he just makes a loud dissatisfied sound and leans on Jisung from behind, wrapping in an embrace — Minho, in fact, is clingy to the point of stupefaction, and all his friends are periodically exposed to his amorouosness. But not Jisung. Minho freezes because he always tried to give the younger one space, not to invade comfort zone. Jisung freezes too, and they continue like this: Minho — standing in a half-bow, Jisung — sitting with his hands frozen over the equipment. Somewhere deep inside, the elder is beating in fright, but does not let the panic seep out. And he seems to be doing it right, because after a few excruciatingly long moments, Jisung noisily sniffs the air, timidly clings with his fingers to the arms around and relaxes in the embrace. Minho sees a smile touching his cheeks. And although he really wants to ask Jisung to play one of his songs for him, Minho restrains himself — today they have already made decent progress in matters of trust. But still, when he gets ready to go home and Jisung moves with him to the front door, Minho leans forward and hugs him again. And feels abnormally happy when Jisung gently hugs him back. But then... then everything doesn't go according to plan. Minho understands that Jisung needs support more than ever, so he's going to spend the next six months giving him as much time as possible. As strange as it may sound, Minho hopes that he will be needed much more than six months — because doctors say that if there is no progress after this period, then it is almost useless to fight for rehabilitation. Considering that now, a month later, there is no progress in the treatment, except for a slight increase in sensitivity, the words of the specialists sound depressing. So, Minho is sure that he will devote all his free time either to Jisung, or to friends, or to himself. But one day, when he leads a class with his dance group (he actually has several groups, but only the girls have been keeping their membership for the second year and are going to turn their hobby into a profession), Yeji stumbles into the hall terribly nervous and happy after they done for today. — Sunbae! — She squeals, stopping at the last moment so as not to jump on the discouraged Minho. — Sunbae, we need to tell you something! — Minho-sunbaenim! — Ryujin also screams deafeningly, forcefully dragging two more girls with her — Jisu and Yuna. Chaeryeong comes in last with an apologetic smile. All five of them are sweating after class, haven't had time to take a shower yet, but happy as hell. Yeji exhales and shakes the phone in her hand. — Sunbae, just don't kill us, please, — she says excitedly, hesitates, but continues: — While you were gone, we... we recorded a cover! And, in general, here… She hands the phone to Minho with trembling fingers. He runs his eyes over the screen — there is an open email and some kind of letter. Minho looks at the sender… — Oh my God, — he gasps, not believing what he's seeing. Yeji looks back at him with the same round eyes. — Oh my God, JYP wrote to you. You have reached the semifinals of the JYP competition… Oh my god. — It arrived a few minutes ago. Sunbae, what should we do?! — Chaeryeong asks him in a whisper. Minho takes a deep, deep breath. And smiles. — First of all, you're such an atta-girls, — he says sincerely and, feeling emotional, pats Ryujin, who is standing closest to them, on the head — the girls exhale noisily and also begin to smile. — Secondly, when did you manage to make the cover, you scoundrels?! Thirdly, show me! They settle down on the floor, huddled close to each other, and Minho carefully evaluates the work done by the wards. They dance to Twice — something fun and summery, but Minho doesn't really know much about this particular group. But he notes that the girls have competently adjusted the choreography to a smaller number of members than in the original; that the shooting is almost professional — not from one angle, but mobile, frame-by-frame, even without changing locations. The flaws are almost insignificant, and Minho informs noticeably nervous teenagers about all this. — The next stage is also correspondence, but we need to choreograph any male JYP group then, — says Yeji when they finish discussing the dance itself. — Sunbae… Please help us! Minho chuckles. — Can't you do it yourself, like last time? — he throws a taunt, which everyone lap up, but Ryujin snorts at. — I will help, of course. But you'll have to spend a lot of time overtime. Won't it affect your studies? The girls look at each other. — We will try to cope with this, — Yeji is responsible for everyone, — Minho notes for himself that she seems to be an unspoken leader. He nods. Well, he's going to have to shift his priorities a little bit too. — Then... create a general chat on some social network and add me there. Talk to your parents today, maybe it's worth discussing it even with your teachers, and tomorrow or the day after tomorrow we'll get in touch and decide what's what. Agreed? — All right, sunbae! — they drawl together, and everyone gets up from the floor. Minho smiles encouragingly at each of them, and they go home, inspired. When the door closes behind the last one, the smile fades by itself. He's really proud of his kids, but damn, preparing for the competition will consume a huge amount of time. It's all very... out of time. And everyday life becomes really hard. Before starting the preparation, Minho still calls the parents of each girl to make sure they are aware. Next, they make up a schedule, and this becomes an obstacle — with the exception of those three days that the newly minted coverdancers spend in the dance studio, the schedule of all five is very different. As a result, they have to part, and Yeji with Jisu come to study on one day of the week, and Chaeryeong, Ryujin and Yuna on the other. They will definitely only learn the dance for five lessons (they, of course, stop at GOT7) and only then assemble all the routines into a complete composition. Minho starts to stay late in the studio. At first, slightly — for half an hour, trying to figure out how to convert male choreography for seven into female choreography for five; then — more: for an hour and a half, when he learns the dance himself, because what kind of teacher is he if he does not know the material himself. Coupled with his regular schedule and the added classes with the girls, his delays are becoming stable character. For him and his cats, but, alas, not for Jisung. Maybe Minho is to blame himself. Perhaps he got too carried away and stopped giving an account of his own promises and their fulfillment. But when Jisung calls in the middle of a class with Yeji and Jisu and Minho says he's busy, and forgets to call back in the evening and remembers about it only the next day. Conscience is gnawing at him even at the moment when Jisung calmly sends a reply to the usual «Good morning». When Jisung, with delight and tears, immediately after the reception, tells Minho that he was finally able to move his toe, the elder does not react immediately and only after awkward moments realizes what he heard. This does not stop him from being happy and encouraging Jisung with words of support, but in the evening Minho lies in bed, replaying the events of the day in his head, and feels lousy. When Jisung finally agrees to share his tracks with Minho, the elder successfully forgets to set the alarm and wakes up to the fact that Jisung calls him forty minutes after the appointed time. By the way, he did not have time to take the call, and when he tried to call, the subscriber's phone turns out to be disconnected. All this is seasoned with Minho's absolutely disgusting reservations about walking and the fact that Felix, busy with his studies, also can't come as often as Jisung would be enough. Minho knows that he messed up, if put it mildly. When he finally gets to the Hans, he is allowed into the apartment without words, but Jisung's mother looks disapprovingly, with tightly pursed lips. She says something about dinner in the fridge and leaves, saying that both she and Mr. Han have evening shifts today, so they won't be here for the rest of the day. — Sungie? — Minho calls uncertainly, peering through the half-open door of the right room. The younger one did not come to meet him, which is already a bad sign. Jisung is sitting on the bed, plugging his ears with headphones and closing his eyes. He looks incredibly fragile, and at this moment, Minho feels more guilty than ever. He goes inside, trying to make as much noise as possible, but Jisung does not react — Minho hears the bass from the headphones from the threshold of the room. — Sungie, — he tries again in vain. Have to come closer, to shake his knee — and Jisung opens his eyes, first looking at Minho incomprehensibly, and then with disbelief. — Sungie, — Minho says for the third time. The music is still booming, but he hopes that Jisung can read his words on his lips. — Forgive your hyung, please. He's such a fool. Jisung doesn't answer, and they play staring contest until the track in the headphones changes and makes Jisung flinch. Minho gently pulls them down, but the younger one grabs his hands, doing it surprisingly tightly. — Hyung,— is the first thing he says today, and his voice is so hoarse, it's like Jisung was crying. Minho looks into his eyes and realizes with horror that this is so — the capillaries are cracked, the eyelids are red. — Hyung, go away. — What? — Get out, Minho-hyung. He recoils from Jisung, but doesn't move anymore. Oh, he knew that he was acting like a pig, but he didn't know that younger one's resentment was so strong. — Sungie, — Minho tries, but Jisung clenches his fists and interrupts him. — Go away, hyung, — he repeats lifelessly. — That's what you want so much, isn't it? — What kind of nonsense is this? — Minho raises his eyebrows, trying not to raise his voice. Jisung purses his lips, which are beginning to tremble, and squints, feeling burning angry tears in the eyes. — You're... acting like you're tired of me, hyung. It's like I'm boring you. I probably should have expected this… — What kind of nonsense are you talking about? — Minho is still indignant. — When was I!.. — That's how it works, hyung! — Jisung screams and starts shaking. — I'm useless. I can't walk, I can't provide for myself, I can't do the simplest household chores. Damn, I can't even pull myself together and take care of myself, right, hyung?! You probably think I'm pathetic. You don't want anything to do with me, do you?! You stopped calling yourself, hyung. Have stopped asking how I was doing. Maybe even your «good mornings» are sent out by some bot, huh? Hyung, I'm not even talking about the fact that the last time we saw each other was a week and a half ago. But you don't have to, really, you don't have to… I'm just… I'm tired of waiting for you every time, hyung. Minho listens to this tirade with a stony face. He rises stiffly from the bed, slowly looks at Jisung, who is trying to catch his breath and hiding his gaze, and just as slowly goes out into the hallway. Each step is difficult, but Minho forces himself to leave the apartment, slamming the door loudly behind. Only when gets in the entrance, he settles right on the dirty — fortunately, not spated on — floor. He howls softly, burying his face first in the palms, then with his fingers in his hair. Minho forcefully pulls the strands in different directions to drown out the mental pain with physical, but it doesn't work — for the first time in many, many years, he wants to cry. Minho thinks that he's a jerk. That he doesn't deserve Jisung, this sunny boy who so desperately needs to be reminded that he is not an empty place, is not defective. He is a full-fledged, capable person who deserves everything: attention, admiration, love. Minho loves Jisung. This thought comes easily, as if Minho thinks about it often, but no; this is the first time in this formulation. He leans the back of his head against the cold surface of the metal door and still lets a couple of tears roll down his cheeks. Now he will exhale, pull himself together, calm down Jisung and they will talk. When Minho opens the door, returning to the apartment, several things happen at once. First, he sees Jisung, which is already strange — when Minho came into his room, he noticed that the wheelchair was quite far from the bed. He can't reach it without help. Secondly, Jisung is crying. Minho's heart bleeds because the younger one's cheeks and eyes are red and wet again, and his lip is bitten in an attempt not to break into sobs. And it's only the third that Minho realizes what he sees wrong. Jisung is standing. Jisung is standing on his own two feet. Jisung stands on his own feet, his hands gripping the door frame of his room until his fingers turn white and staring straight at Minho. He doesn't seem to believe that Minho is real — he immediately turns pale, his arms weaken, and his legs give way. Minho rushes forward and catches him a moment before Jisung falls to the floor like a sack. — Hyung, — whispers hotly in his ear. — Hyung, hyung, hyung. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so stupid. I didn't want to say all this! Hyung, do you believe me?.. Hyung? Hyung, hyung! And Minho only has the strength to pull Jisung closer and not let go, not let go, not let go. He gently strokes the shaking younger one between the shoulder blades and squeezes into himself while they both try to comprehend what is happening. — Sungie, — Minho tries to put his thoughts together, but they do not fit, just do not fit on his tongue. — I would never, no way. I'm not leaving you, do you hear? Never in my life. — Hyung, hyung, hyung, — Jisung continues to mutter like a wind-up. They sit on the cold floor for what seems like an eternity, until Jisung stops crying and calms down, lulled by the measured rocking. They need to talk — Minho understands this with his mind, but his heart is pounding and screaming, begging for once to do as he says. Minho listens for once. He gently pushes Jisung away from himself, but without letting himself change his mind and think about it, takes extraneous — no, such a native — face in his hands. Jisung blinks incomprehensibly; his eyes are swollen, like slits, but Minho fatally finds that he is still the most beautiful for him. The sweetest, most touching — the most-most. Minho loves Jisung. He doesn't want to think at all, so does as his heart tells — leans forward towards the body, which is still trembling after crying, and kisses. Minho kisses Jisung without closing his eyes and only squeezing his lips with his own, and in his stomach explode fireworks, cities, planets, supernovae — anything explodes, but Minho has never felt like this. Minho kisses Jisung, and something explodes in him again when Jisung shyly kisses him back: at first it was weightless, unreal somehow, and then — getting excited and gaining confidence. Minho kisses Jisung, and Jisung kisses Minho. They don't close their eyes, they don't stop, because it turns out to be unexpectedly easy to breathe — they inhale noisily, exhale just as loudly, and look-look-look at each other. Minho sees the whole universe in Jisung's eyes and wonders how it didn't explode too. Minho pulls away first. He leaves his hands on the face opposite, gently stroking his cheeks; Jisung smiles weakly but peacefully. — I love you, Sungie, — Minho whispers. — I'm so terribly in love with you, if you only knew. Jisung laughs. — I know, hyung, — he says, also in a whisper, because they don't have enough for more. — Because I am too. I've been in love with you since I was thirteen, hyung. What do you say to that?.. Until that moment, Minho was sure that he would not be able to be surprised today — only calmness and bliss flooded him from the inside. But Jisung's words make him sigh and laugh softly, and also realize that all the admiring glances he threw at Minho as a teenager were not admiring at all, but amorous. — You're so incredible, — he snorts softly. — No more than you, — Jisung replies and reaches for a kiss. The conversation can wait. Everything around can wait.

***

Oh, Minho definitely likes dating Jisung. Even the fact that they are in a relationship causes an inexplicable warm feeling in him; it warms from the inside even when a dank autumn falls on Seoul. Nothing changes dramatically, but everything becomes somehow more intimate: smiles are more meaningful, touches are more tremulous, and the days when they stay together are more significant. Minho also discovers that Jisung is almost a tactile maniac (almost — because he is embarrassed by everything). He willingly responds to rare (because they can't be caught with swollen lips) kisses on the lips, puts his cheeks under them, stretches out to hug himself and even allows Minho to lie on his lap. Minho also reveals an unexpected sarcastic side in dongseng, so sometimes it's funny for them to exchange minor barbs. Last but not least — Jisung is starting to make progress in his rehabilitation. Minho insists that he, at least veiledly, but tell the attending physician that he was able to get back on his feet. Later, Jisung retells the rehabilitologist's answer: the release of adrenaline into the blood due to stress, a state of passion and all that. At this moment, Jisung is almost lying on Minho, who is fingering his hair, and fidgets — they do not really like to remember the beginning of their relationship. The conversation was not very intense at the time, but was difficult because Minho still needed to devote a lot of time to the dance group, and Jisung needed to accept it. When an excited Yeji calls to inform them that they have reached the finals, Minho is just sitting in Jisung's room and listens to his dissatisfaction with his studies — the university restored him successfully, but with a temporary transfer to correspondence studies he had to sweat. Minho quietly apologizes and takes the call. — Yeji-ya? — he says into the speaker, and his voice probably subtly changes to the commanding one with which he communicates with his wards — Jisung gives him a strange look. — I hope you're calling me with good news. — Relatively, sunbae, — comes the reply. Minho frowns. — We have passed! — Yeji adds hurriedly, and then her tone changes to scared. — But we have big, big problems! In the final, we need to present the choreography for our own track, sunbae! They didn't warn about it, even didn't give a hint! What should we do?! Minho chews his lip and sighs — this news puzzles him. — This is unexpected, of course, but they are still an agency producing singers… Perhaps they are looking for young talents, and now they are simply screening out those who do not meet their standards and are not ready to kill themselves to take a place. — Yes, maybe, — Yeji agrees absently. — But we... even if we draft the lyrics and the melody, we won't be able to record it fully, because none of us are familiar with music so closely, and… — Stop, — Minho interrupts her thoughtfully. — Wait a second. He looks at Jisung. He nods questioningly in response, and Minho, covering the speaker with his palm, asks: — Did you hear that? — Jisung nods. — Maybe I'm asking too much, but... can you help? Minho looks expectantly. At first, Jisung points at himself in disbelief; his eyes widen comically, his mouth opens slightly with the letter «O». — Oh, — he says. — I could try. — Wonderful, — Minho smiles affectionately and brings the phone back to his face. —Yeji-ya, I've solved the problem, — Jisung immediately leaps up indignantly. — You and the girls can try to write something, and we'll work on it. How much time do we all have? — Three months, — Yeji responds after a shocked silence. — Sunbae, but how?.. — Then you have a week for everything, — Minho snaps and scoops up Jisung, starting to cover his face with weightless kisses — Jisung ridiculously shoves back. — Good luck, I'll see you in class… Bye. He puts the phone aside and leans on Jisung, who has found his voice again: — I said I'd try, and you gave the poor girl hope! — he is indignant. — I just believe in my boyfriend, — Minho slyly drawls and briefly kisses Jisung on the lips. — You're such a suck-up, — he puffs, but resigns himself to this position and hugs Minho by the small of his back. — Tell them at least to determine the genre of both the text and the music. — I think they want to try to do something on their own, — Minho disagrees. — They are talented. Let's see what they present at the end of the week. — You said it yourself, — Jisung gives up. Then everything turns back into a carousel of events. Yeji brings a flash drive with a rough text, that was hummed into a figgy microphone — as Jisung responds, wincing, and the future producer plunges into work. Now it's Minho's turn to remain ignored, but it's easier for him — he can still freely come to visit someone and sit quietly in the room. Jisung is always writing something in a notebook, crossing out the lines over and over again; he once says that he likes the general message — about self-love, but the rhyme is so-so. After a few days, he finally lets Minho listen to his version of the song, and damn. It even sounds great when it's raw. Jisung works on the track for another week, and then they invite the girls to record in the studio. Thanks to sessions with a psychologist, Jisung begins to treat cars more evenly, so they transport the part of the equipment that he wants to take with him without any problems — Minho personally does this by taking a car from Chan. Jisung rides in the backseat with his eyes closed and headphones on, frowning and flinching at turns, and Minho gives him anxious glances all the way. Not to say that the recording goes off without a hitch, but they fit into the rented three hours. Jisung promises to provide a finished song in two days and, satisfied with the work, goes back home less stressful. When Minho finally brings the fruit of their joint work to the studio, one of the girls even starts crying; Minho only pretends not to notice who, and patronizingly pats each on the head. Then, however, he regains the appearance of a strict teacher, and on the first day they stay late discussing choreography. It takes them a total of two months to stage it, and with the video they pull to the last, polishing the dance. And then Minho's worries about this are completely removed, because Jisung takes his first step on crutches. As he rides to the younger one, swaying in the subway, Minho thinks distantly that time flies by imperceptibly. He barely remembered a boy named Jisung when he met his grandmother on the street late at night, and now, six months later, he is in this boy head-over-heels and forever. Minho will never admit it, but his eyes start to burn when he thinks about it. — Hyung, — Jisung opens the door himself, flashing his eyes happily and leaning on crutches under his armpits. — Sungie, — Minho smiles back. And for the first time in these six months, he takes the liberty of hugging a stunned youger one right in the hallway in front of his parents. Jisung still cries softly into his shoulder, while Minho Minho strokes his back soothingly and thinks that he holds his universe in his hands. One day, after another six months, Jisung says: — You know, none of this would have happened without you. They are lying on a wide bed in Minho's apartment. Jisung is already more confident on crutches, goes outside, squinting from the sun — it's late spring, almost summer, and the Han couple calmly let their son go to hyung for the night. Minho turns to Jisung, squeezes their intertwined fingers tighter. — Why? — He asks reasonably. Jisung smiles. Lately, he really smiles a lot and sincerely — everything is gradually getting better. — It was like you breathed life into me last summer, — he admits. — It's like I was drowning and you pulled me out of the water, hyung. No matter how many lyrics I write, I will never be able to explain this feeling in words, but I just know that you are the reason for everything. Minho looks into his eyes, and tenderness floods him again. Huge, engulfing, sweeping away everything in its path except for Jisung. Jisung is perfectly untouchable. — I love you, — he whispers instead of answering. — Then make love to me. These words are like an electric shock, sending a shock through the whole body. Jisung looks calm, confident, Minho looks incredulous and surprised. He raises himself on his elbow and wraps this native face in his hands. Peering, staring, until he is playfully flicked on the nose. — You?.. — He licks his lips, but doesn't finish. — I am, — Jisung sneers slyly. — Or are you afraid, hyung? — Don't try to challenge me, that's not the right case, — Minho shushes sternly. — None of us are... prepared. Something inside breaks off with anticipation, because Jison rolls his eyes. — Do you think I would have offered if that was the case? — Oh my God, — Minho moans. — You're killing me. The curtains are tightly drawn in the room and the lights are off — they were watching a movie, leaving the lighting only in the hallway, and never reached the switch again. Soonie, Doongie and Dori are sleeping in the living room, curled up in a big ball; the radio is playing in the kitchen. Minho holds his breath. For some reason, in the timid haze of twilight, Jisung looks a little extraterrestrial — his naturally swarthy skin turns bluish-pale, shadows stretch under his eyelashes, his eyes shine somehow dangerously, mysteriously. Minho lowers the palms from his face lower: first weightlessly on his neck, then on his chest, inadvertently touching the nipples that stood up under the thin T-shirt, and — with pressure on the sides, forcing him to bend, cling closer. Jisung is as malleable as plasticine. He trustingly puts neck up to Minho to lick, bite, run his nose over the stretched muscles and tendons, inhale the subtle smell of shower gel. Minho gently touches his lips wherever he wanted to all this time: kisses the jaw line, bites the earlobe — at this point, Jisung noisily sniffs the air and clings to Minho's T-shirt. And Minho decides that the clothes are superfluous. He pulls off everything but his boxers, standing back a short distance away; Jisung also lifts himself up and allows himself to be rid of unnecessary fabric. They fall back on the bed, pulling each other into a kiss. This time it's hotter, more insatiable, and Jisung wraps his arms around Minho's neck, tangling his fingers in the hair. He trembles under the touch, gets goosebumps, quietly gasps for air, but does not moan — Minho wants to fix it. And again — goes down the path from the chin to the collarbones, strokes with his palms under the ribs. Jisung suddenly twitches, yelping, and opens his eyes, which had been squeezed shut. — Hyung, it tickles! — He rages hoarsely and pokes Minho in the side in retaliation, but freezes, leaving his palm on his waist. He slowly brings the second one up, forcing Minho to bend over with interest. — Do you like me? — He asks playfully, biting his lower lip. — Would you believe me if I said no? — Jisung snorts. Minho suddenly kisses him, pressing his lips until the air began to run out. Any thoughts immediately fly out of his head, leaving only a longing for more and a feeling of butterflies in the stomach. — Wait a minute, — Minho whispers, pulling away. Jisung reaches back, but is gently dropped back. — I'm going to get some lube, Sungie. Wait… A minute feels like a second, because Minho's hands disappeared, giving him a couple of moments to blink, and then they came back again, pressing him to them with a vengeance, drawing patterns understandable to him alone. Jisung's legs are trembling with excitement, his lower abdomen is throbbing brightly, he wants everything at once. Minho kisses his knee possessively, leaves a pink mark on the inside of his thigh — it's a pity that he can't, because the doctors will notice — and Jisung moans deeply for the first time. And again, and more, because Minho's tongue does things to him that defy description. And then everything mixes into a solid lump of pleasure, light pain and happiness, happiness, happiness.

***

— Sungie, if you continue at this pace, we'll be late. We're just going to meet my friends. Moreover, no offense, but the fact that Hyunjin will finally bring his partner is an event much bigger than our appearance. — I just want to look good, not like you — just combed your hair, and you're already handsome. It doesn't work that way for me, hyung! Minho snorts, still unable to stand it and also goes into the bathroom. In the mirror, he meets the gaze of Jisung, who is using a concealer to cover up rare pimples on his face. He has bright blue hair and a puncture in his eyebrow, because he wanted variety; the Han couple were horrified, but resigned themselves to their son's oddities — in the end, he finally stands confidently on his feet without crutches (walks, however, only with them anyway). After a year that seemed like a torment to all of them, and a miracle to the doctors. —Sungie,— Minho drawls, wrapping his arms around the younger one and preventing him from finishing his light makeup. — Jisung-ah. Jisung...ie. Han Jisung... Hannie! Jisung flinches, dropping the palette into the sink. Minho cringes, picking it up, and exhales in relief — nothing has broken. — One more word and I won't kiss you until tonight, hyung, — Jisung hisses. Minho rolls his eyes — it is unlikely that the threat would have been fulfilled — but obediently remains silent. (This does not prevent him from blowing in one's ear a couple of times and getting a murderous look for it). They still come to the meeting without delay. However, everyone who is not interested in looking at is already here: Chan and Jeongin are watching videos on their phone, looking up only because Minho attracts attention by coughing. Changbin initially glances boringly at the cafe, so he notices the elder's approach first and lazily waves his hand. And, unexpectedly, Hyunjin is here, tensely staring at the phone and only nodding. Minho can tell right away that he's nervous because something went wrong again. — Gentlemen, my boyfriend is Han Jisung, — Minho briefly introduces and points at his friends in turn: — Chan-hyung, Jeongin, Changbin, Hyunjin. Your hyungs, uh... are everyone except Jeongin. — Nice to meet you, — the last one responds politely, while Chan squints for some reason. — But I thought, hyung, that you would say something like «Please love and favor, but no, only I can love him» or something even more unfunny. Oh, Minho should constantly remind himself that Jeongin is an angelic imp, but he's in a good mood today, so Minho ignores the banter and only helps Jisung carefully sit down on the couch, folding his crutches nearby. — Hush, — Chan gently besieges his boyfriend, but he is still pleased with himself, already burying his face back into the screen. Meanwhile, Chan continues: — I might be putting myself in a very awkward position right now if I make a mistake… But aren't you the Han Jisung who wrote the track for teenage girls that rocked JYP the other day?.. Jisung looks at Minho in confusion, and then smiles spread on both their faces. — Oh, yes, it's me. Nice to meet you. — Wow, — Chan is impressed and pulls to shake his hand. — An incredible job. In my opinion, JYP-sunbaenim should tear you off with your arms and legs to his agency! — I would do that, — Changbin mutters almost inaudibly; only Jisung pays attention to him, who is still wary of everyone around. Minho puts an encouraging arm around his waist, and then turns to Chan. — So you won't say anything about choreography?! Jisung titters, turning away, because Chan's face is so puzzled that it is immediately clear that he did not follow the events in Minho's life very much or quite naively ignored them. — Excuse me?.. — Sungie, remind me at home to cross Channie-hyung off my list of friends.… — I mean, are these kids from your studio? — He asks in confusion, and Jisung can't hold back his laughter at all. They are interrupted by a loud sigh from Hyunjin. — Sorry for our eternal squabbles, — he says guiltily and combs his recently dyed blond long hair. — Seungmin-ie will be here in five minutes, but he's with a friend. He says it's for support, — Hyunjin winces, as if he's not supporting his boyfriend. — I hope you don't mind, but we don't seem to have a choice. It really looks like the kind of behavior that Hyunjin's boyfriend usually gives out. Minho does not know how Hyunjin puts up with all this, but he is now more attracted to someone's name — it seems that he has already met some strange Seungmin. Minho, having also sat down and pulled Jisung by his side, idly begins to watch the entrance. Imagine his surprise when at first a familiar bass is heard from behind the door — Jison also jumps up — and then a light top dives into the room. Felix, smiling broadly, looks around the room and stops in surprise at his friends. — Minho-hyung! — he shouts loudly, but, however, immediately stews himself and shouts more quietly. — Jisung! — Lix, — Minho gets up from his seat, because Felix runs into him with Jisung and laughs loudly, joyfully. — That's it, kid, calm down, since you've arrived, we're not going anywhere. They really hadn't seen Felix for a very long time — he was going to stay with his relatives for a long time again. Hyunjin clears his throat from somewhere behind. — It's all very touching, yes, but, — he says hesitantly and nods at the fragile boy next to him. — Uh, meet my boyfriend, Kim Seungmin. He's... mute. Only mute, not deaf. Please treat this with understanding. The same Seungmin that Minho saw with Felix on the beaches last summer bows deeply. He looks terribly awkward, so when Minho catches the shifty gaze, he imperceptibly moves his chin in different directions. Seungmin, who immediately recognized him, makes shoulders droop — it seems that he understood the elder's suggestion to forget about the summer incident. Felix, catching himself, bows too. — My name is Lee Felix, I am Seungmin-ie's moral support, — he smiles. — That's my real name, if anything. I was born in Australia, — Chan's face stretches ridiculously. — My Korean name is Yongbok, but if it's not hard for you, it's better to use my native one. But the latest information is becoming new to Minho. Something clicks in his head again, and he bursts out for the umpteenth time that day — this time at the same time as Chan. Changbin, who had previously been hidden behind Minho and Jisung and had not seen the newcomers behind their backs (because he is a small antisocial dwarf and does not like new acquaintances), immediately ruffles up and shows himself to Felix. — Yongbok-ie? — He asks incredulously. — Changbin-hyung? — Felix looks equally shocked. — Come on, guys, we've confused life with Santa Barbara, — Minho concludes, still chuckling. The cafe is filled with noise. The waiters look at their company with disapproval, but they can't say anything — they ordered so much that Minho would estimate it at half of his entire salary. Those who did not know each other before are slowly getting to know each other better; Minho would not miss the opportunity to pull a stunt on Changbin with his «cute Yongbok-ie», but he is only stopped by the fact that it will embarrass Felix very much. They are separated already being best friends, homies, bros and the rest of the list. The evening turns out to be much more intense than everyone expected, so everyone leaves as soon as they leave the cafe; only Felix and Changbin, embarrassed by the increased attention to themselves, stealthily taking each other's hands, go for a walk around the night city. Jisung spends the night at Minho's place again — he does it with enviable regularity, and his parents seem to guess something. They take a leisurely shower, brush their teeth and fall on the bed. Jisung, tired, falls asleep almost immediately, and Minho only occasionally kisses him on the top of his head. He thinks that if everything in his life is cyclical, then they definitely need to go to the sea, to the home, when the rehabilitation is finished. Minho falls asleep thinking about the sea.