CAN'T HELP MYSELF. minsung

acts of service

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"I hate this," Minho flopped backwards onto his bed. The homework splayed out across the ground was not making any sense at all; moreover, his brain was jumbling up all the letters and rearranging them every time he tried to read aloud.

Jisung, still sat on the carpeted floor, giggled and proceeded to let out a breathy sigh. "You've already had a long day. Want me to do it for you?"

A smile breached the tip of his lips. He leaned down to Jisung, who was now resting his arms on the bed, his chin on the edge, and ruffled his hair. "No, I can't make you do this, 'Sung," Minho laughed as if the thought of Jisung doing his homework was the most preposterous preposition ever proposed.

"I'm offering!" Jisung giggled, his hands up beside his head.

"Stilllllllllllllllllll," Minho gag-wailed, the back of his hand on his forehead. "Homework needs to be personal and valuable and—!"

"Come on, Minho, how many times have you asked to copy Chan's homework?"

"Not that many times, actually!"

"Oh my god, your huge ass is smoking up!! We have to call the fire department!"

A pillow had made connection with Jisung's face, and he mock-fell backwards wincing painfully. "Oh, the agony, Minho," — the pillow-thrower only chortled in the background — "only a true love's kiss can save this damsel in distress!"

Minho shrugged. "If only there was someone out there who loved you."

"Don't you dare quote frozen just to quote fucking Hans!" Jisung exhaled, his mouth in a firm 'O'. He immediately sat up as his damsel distress meter had jerked up to a million.

"I can quote whoever I want, thank you very much," Minho tutted, rolling over the bed onto the floor and began to tidy up his papers.

Jisung squinted. "You're having trouble using good quotes in your Shakespeare essay though," he snorted, "look — you have to choose quotes that also suggests the underlying theme of the text."

Minho nodded. "But why can't I use a quote with like, fucking, I don't know — plosive?"

"'Cause, plosive is only a literary technique, but it doesn't, like, contribute to suggesting the theme." Upon seeing his boyfriend's confused and almost dazed expression, he sighed and tried to find to more words. "You get marks based on your understanding, and if you understand the message of the story then you'll get way more marks than if you display your understanding of 'p, d, t, b' alliteration."

"Ohhh, that makes sense, actually," Minho sighed, and then let out a brief giggle and ruffled Jisung's hair. He really liked Jisung's hair. "I'm so thankful my boyfriend's a smarty pants."

"Yeah, and my boyfriend's a liar liar pants on fire— hey!!!"

Another pillow to the face silenced Jisung's retort.

After a couple laughs, Minho stretched his arms out and climbed back into bed. "Look, 'Sungie, I'm gonna try nap a little but wake me up at half past eleven so I can conquer my homework, alright?"

"And what's the magic word?" Jisung batted his eyelashes. Sparkles framed his face at the action.

Minho raised a brow. "... Alright?"

"No, it's not — nevermind. You're so cute." Jisung internally facepalmed, a smile creeping up onto his face anyway at the response.

"Okay," Minho yawned, and Jisung couldn't tell if it was a real one or not, "I love you 'Sungie. Goodnight."

"I love you more. Goodnight, Minho." Jisung finally stood up off of the ground all to give Minho a little peck on the cheek. He smiled.

He climbed into bed behind him, wrapping his arms around Minho's waist. Jisung then planted a flurry of little kisses around the neck of his partner and smiled between each one. His phone buzzed for a second, and it made him put a mental reminder in his head to keep track of time so he could wake the boy beside him up later.

11:15.

Jisung's hand had somehow reached up inside of Minho's shirt, and had still held Minho by the waist but with skin-to-skin contact. Jisung loved doing that with him: it made him feel closer. And he could also feel the warmth in Minho's body, reminding Jisung that his perfect boyfriend was in fact a living, breathing, human being.

11:20.

Every so often, Jisung would plant another little kiss somewhere on Minho's body: sometimes he'd reach up and kiss his forehead; or sometimes, he'd pull the neckline of his shirt a little and kiss his back; or he'd just stick to kissing the back of his neck. Whatever one it was, Jisung loved it.

11:25.

Jisung hated that he would have to disturb the boy's sleep in around about five minutes. He took in and admired the boy's sleeping face as much as he could before the dreaded time passed. Minho had rolled over at some point, now on his back instead of his side.

11:30.

'Welp,' Jisung sighed. He climbed up on top of his partner. "Minho, wake up," he kissed the boy's lips, gently shaking him by the shoulders. "Come on, you have to conquer your homework in an intense battle. I'm your trusty steed and your pencil is your weapon."

Jisung didn't want it to have to come to this, but — his lips inched closer and closer to Minho's ear, and then he let out the quietest but loudest scream he could muster in order to wake the sleeping beauty up.

He just wasn't budging. But he was definitely alive, so there was nothing to worry about.

Carefully, Jisung stood up on the bed and tip-toed off the edge, facing the tidy pile of papers on the floor. 'He's so tired,' he looked back at his boyfriend, 'maybe I can at least do this for him.'

There Jisung was, scribbling away at Minho's essay using the best quotes he could find from the text. He opened one of Minho's drawers and found a lone yellow highlighter, using it to mark lines in the extract. He wrote notes in blue for Minho — he took into consideration that blue was both easier to read and distinguishable from Minho's own black writing.

00:07.

Shuffling arose from the bed. It creaked a little. "'Sung? What are you doing?"

Minho's voice was croaky and a bit unclear. He really did sound tired.

"You didn't wake up at half eleven — like you genuinely wouldn't budge — and this homework wasn't gonna do itself, so I... yeah." Jisung gestured towards the pen and paper on the floor.

"Jisung, you didn't have to do that," Minho chuckled. "But thank you. But also don't do that. Alright?"

"Alright, Minho." Jisung grinned.

"Now get into bed with me, stupid," Minho outstretched his arms, doing stupid grabby hands.

Jisung giggled. "Hold on, let me finish this sentence!!!"

The last sentence on the essay was rather rushed and scribbled. He was in a hurry to be in Minho's arms, after all.

Jisung promptly set an alarm for the morning, and just like that, fell asleep in a click. It was certainly cozy.

Albeit cheesy, they had both fallen asleep with a trace of a smile on their faces.

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