hate to love you // minsung

4

Jisung woke up in the middle of the night. He blearily rolled over and checked the time, and was surprised to see that it was only two in the morning. He'd fallen asleep early, tired out from the events of that day and all the crying. He rubbed the crust from the corners of his eyes and felt how swollen they were.

He laid in bed, looking up at the top bunk where Minho was supposed to be, and wondered where everyone was. He couldn't sense anyone else in the room with him, not their snores, or even their breathing.

He stayed in bed for another half hour, thoughts circling his head, unable to fall asleep, before frustratedly kicking off his blankets and blindly making his way out of the room.

The bright lights flooded his vision as he entered the hallway, and he squinted, trying to think of where everyone would be. He wandered around the floor, and didn't have to go very far before he came across his friends, Felix, Changbin, and Jeongin, all sitting in a circle playing Uno.

They all looked up at him, surprised, and Jisung realized that he must look like a mess, with his puffy eyes and tear-stained face. He looked around, expecting to see the person he'd hurt among them, before remembering that he'd gone to sleep. "Where's Minho?" he croaked, and cleared his throat.

Felix glanced at the others before responding quietly. "In our room."

Before anyone could say anything, not that they knew what to say, Jisung turned around and left. He could hear the others murmuring behind him, wondering if they should go after him, but didn't care.

He went to the room next to his and pushed open the door with a couple of fingers, letting it slowly drift open. He quietly stepped in, trying to make out what was in the room in the dim light that filtered through. There was only one other person in the room, fast asleep on the top bunk that he knew to be Felix's bed.

He didn't want to go near Minho, still repulsed by queerness, but overwhelming guilt and shame compelled him to take the creaky ladder. The other's form could be made out on the side of the bed away from him, facing the wall. He stood on one of the rungs, the top half his body resting on the mattress, his face across from Minho's.

Growing uncomfortable in this position, Jisung forced himself over the ladder, kneeling on the bed. He crept over, looking at the peacefully sleeping boy. Minho's hair was matted to his forehead with sweat, and Jisung resisted the urge to wipe his forehead with his sleeve and run his fingers up through his hair. His eyes trailed over the rest of Minho's features, his breath catching in his throat over the slope of his nose, his heart-shaped lips, his closed eyes. His heart beat too fast around him, seeing his impossibly pretty face.

Jisung was conditioned to fall asleep seeing Minho's face, and after staring at him for so long, he was growing sleepy again. He just wanted to curl up next to Minho and go back to sleep.

He looked at Minho's face again, fast asleep, and felt a strange feeling bubbling in his heart. Immediately, a wave of shame followed. Both because of his sinful attraction to Minho, and because of the way that Jisung had treated him.

He lay down next to Minho, thinking of all the things he was hiding, and all the things he wanted the other to know. Quiet tears leaked out of his eyes and wet the pillowcase.

"Why are you here?"

Jisung started, not knowing that the other was awake. He sat up, bumping his head on the low ceiling, seeing that Minho's eyes had blinked open, staring at him.

He rubbed his head. "Sorry, I -"

"Why are you here?" Minho hardened his voice too much as he asked again, not wanting the other to think that he'd been forgiven. He'd never thought Jisung could be so hateful. He'd been in love with Jisung for so long, that Jisung looking at him with so much disgust had been excruciatingly painful.

He just wanted Jisung to know how much he'd hurt him.

Jisung stiffened at the change in his tone. "Minho, please, I'm so sorry -"

"Do you have any idea what you did?"

The words felt like tines through Jisung's heart. Tears started to pool in his eyes, but they were left unseen in the dark. He swallowed, hoping his voice wouldn't crack. "I don't know. But I'm so sorry I hurt you."

Minho moved so that he was resting on his elbows, facing Jisung. "Then why would you say that? Do you really think I'm disgusting?"

"No! Minho, I -" I love you. I just hate myself. I'm sorry. There was a long silence as Jisung thought of something that he could say. But he couldn't think of anything that wouldn't make him uncomfortably vulnerable.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm sorry, I'll leave you alone."

Minho made a frustrated noise, sitting up as Jisung descended the creaky ladder and hopped onto the floor. "Are you really not going to explain?"

"I'm sorry, hyung." Jisung was too overwhelmed to have the necessary conversation right then. He paused outside the door, thoughts about what to do next swirled through his head, before leaving. 

Minho flopped back in bed, frustrated. He took the pillow next to him and stuffed it in his face, but ripped it off as the scent of Jisung's soap and sweat overtook his senses. It took him a moment to process that the pillow had been slightly damp with tears.

Minho felt a pang in his heart and felt like calling Jisung back to sleep beside him, but exhaustion overtook him, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.