more than enough ; minsung

keep it together, han jisung

In one hour, Jisung's ex-boyfriend is going to marry someone else. And Jisung has not cried even once.

Twisted himself into knots, sure. Rubbed his temples in disbelief, definitely. But not a tear. He's rather proud.

Right now he's preoccupied with his clothes. He found ink stains on his suit, freaked out, got it dry-cleaned, yet still the stains persevered — and now he's staring in the mirror at his new suit. He bought a brand new suit for this. He'll never forgive himself.

At least he looks decent. His black jacket is crisp, the white shirt underneath is basically glowing, pristine. (Never, ever forgive himself.) His dark hair is swept back with an appropriate amount of product. His face... could use some work. He has a stress-wrinkle cut across his forehead and his mouth is warped into a grimace.

Minho texts him once he's outside the apartment building. (Yes they exchanged numbers. No it wasn't a thing. Maybe Jisung saved his contact as a dancing emoji and a red heart.) He takes the stairs to the lobby and sees Minho waiting on the sidewalk.

This... this, Jisung has not seen before. Minho, dressed up in silver-buckled shoes and a midnight blue pinstripe suit, buttoned up to follow his slight waist. No tie, collar open. His hair is parted, loose waves falling around his face. He looks... overwhelming. (And taller. Could he have insoles? Maybe it's the stripes.)

Jisung walks out onto the sidewalk. Minho takes a look at him and smiles. Jisung smiles back.

"You look good," they say at the same time, harmonizing.

"Okay," Jisung says, rubbing the back of his head. "Bus?"

They ride the bus standing between a sobbing baby and a man with a backward hairpiece. Jisung feels a mix of emotions. Taking the bus all dressed up throws him back to prom night, to clammy palms and drunken excitement. The dread in his stomach makes him feel like he's on his way to get a tooth pulled with no anesthesia.

Minho by his side makes him feel like he's under a spotlight, about to do something terrifying and amazing.

At the moment, Minho is playing peekaboo with the baby. Jisung watches, delighted, till Minho catches him.

"Pretty cute," Minho says.

"Yep. Very."

Minho's eyebrows furrow. He reaches over and tugs on the back of Jisung's collar.

"Is this a tag...?"

Jisung barely stops himself from swearing. "I might have bought a new suit for today."

"Are you serious?"

"There was! A stain!"

Minho smirks and gives the tag a pull. "Rip it? Or is this part of the plan?"

"Plan?"

"To seem successful and emotionally stable?"

Jisung thumps his arm. "Just rip it."

Minho rips it and tucks the tag into his pocket. "I was expecting more of a production. You know, to sell it."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Hickeys."

Jisung laughs. It sounds like a shriek. "Hickeys?"

"They're easy to fake, you just need an empty water bottle and, you know, initiative."

"Nope, not doing that."

"It might make him jealous. Your ex."

"That's not... the point of this."