ℙ𝕃𝔸𝕐 𝔽𝕆ℝ 𝕃𝔸𝕌𝔾ℍ𝕊 ✔ ¨°ʰʸᵘⁿʰᵒ°¨

¨°seventeen°¨

How is he doing? Minho's thoughts are filled with nothing more than his blond friend; Hyunjin. After their awkward separation Saturday, he hasn't stopped thinking of him. Minho wanted to kiss him farewell, but the other seemed clearly out of place with the whole—very new—situation; and so they bummed heads. It kept him from texting, not sure what to say now. He didn't want to pressure Hyunjin, but he lied if he said it doesn't scare him. The longer they are not talking, the more anxious he's getting.

"Stop being so fucking fidgety, where's your head at?" A slap on his trembling knee brings the brunet back to reality. Chan's recording studio floods back into sight. A little dazed, Minho looks to his left. Jisung sits next to him on the black couch with a can of orange Fanta against his lips. He gulps down the soda with one arched eyebrow, still waiting for an answer.

"Nowhere."

"Clearly.." Jisung sets the can on the coffee table in front of them and lets out a small burp. "You missed the whole ass story I just told you. I even talked about some girls tits I wanted to motorboat, and you just hummed."

Minho raises both eyebrows, in slight disgust, and wants to say something about his ill manners, but Chan beats him to it when he rolls on his desk chair away from his laptop towards his friends.

"Shut up Ji, you said no such thing. You're just being cranky after a long gray office Monday and Minho isn't giving you the attention you desperately want. You princes." Chan shoves his headphones around his neck and rolls closer to the table to grab his bowl of ramyeon.

Jisung scoffs and starts nibbling on a single Dorito. He slumps down on the couch, widening his legs, and glares at their oldest friend. "Am not."

A small smile creeps on Minho's face, seeing the puffed-up cheeks from his rapper friend and teasingly pinches it. "I am sorry, princes, you need some attention from your hyung?" he coos, his smile changing into a smirk, and quickly leans away when a smack waves his way. "Don't be so salty!"

"Give the poor dude a break, his father is breathing in his neck for the past couple of weeks, expecting to handle more of the family company." The oldest points his chopsticks to Jisung with a knowing expression on his face. He's well aware of the stress the youngest is having. He tries to cover it with jokes and smiles, but there's a lot more behind that cheeky face.

"Finally someone who pays attention to me," Jisung mutters, another Dorito disappears in his mouth. "That old man is being unreasonable. How does he expect someone in his early twenties to take on such responsibilities? And don't mention the whole 'I want grandchildren' rambling. If he or my mother mentions this one more time, I'm going to hang my freaking nuts on a Christmas tree."

Chan and Minho look away from Jisung to stare at each other, a little bewildered from the heated words, and then burst out laughing. Chan quickly sets his bowl back on the table before he spills, then twirls his chair with his hands placed on his stomach. And Minho slides from the couch onto the carpet with tears ready to drop. He starts to hiccup and turns red from the air he misses.

"Ha-ha." The frown on Jisung's forehead melts a little. "You two are the shittiest friends." But he can't contain the corner of his mouth from quirking up when seeing them both sprawled on the floor trying to catch their breaths.

"Please, warn me when you do so, I don't want to scar my eyes with the image of your wrinkly balls," Minho breathes, pinking a tear away from the corner of his eye.

"Who's wrinkly balls are we talking about?"

Minho's heart stills for a moment, after hearing the voice he longs for the most. He doesn't need to look up from behind the coffee table to know Hyunjin entered the studio. Probably hella confused about the whole balls situation. It makes him snap up, hitting his knee from under the table, and hisses when the pain shudders through his body.