teach me to love┊ °❀ [ lee know x han ]

˚ · . 08

Minho ended up sleeping in Jisung's bed that night.

He wasn't completely sure what had happened. One minute, Minho was yawning, slightly complaining about feeling a bit tired, and the next, he was out, wrapped in one of Jisung's arms, bodies close, pulled flush together.

So it was a bit bemusing to his drowsed mind when beside him, he felt nothing but the cold sheets, lacking a previous warmth in which he had fallen accustomed to during the night. Minho dragged his eyes open and quickly adjusted to the curtained darkness of Jisung's bedroom.

Sucking in a breath, he rolled over onto his stomach, accounting for the lack of Jisung next to him. His gut twisted with worry, had he done something embarrassing in his sleep?

Minho tried not to worry about it, focusing more on attempting to fully wake himself, fingers fumbling for his phone on the bed. He finally grasped it, checking the time, 10:24 AM.

Once his eyes adjusted to the brightness of his lockscreen, Minho sat up, gaze flicking to the cracked open door, scratching his head and running his fingers along his scalp. Minho brought himself to his feet, feeling curious of Jisung's whereabouts.

He spotted the boy once he emerged from the hallway, back turned, perched on one of the barstools in the kitchen. Minho easily made his way over, his socked feet masking any noise against the hardwood.

Jisung did not flinch when Minho appeared next to him, sliding into the neighboring chair. He simply turned his head, making eye contact, and Minho swore he saw the corner of his lip turn up.

"Morning," Minho mumbled out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, partly because he was tired, and partly because he felt a slight indisposition as result of Jisung's heavy gaze. When he pulled his hands away from his face, Minho noticed Jisung's eyes crease before he spoke.

"Good morning."

Minho blinked at him for a moment, trying to read into his expression. He looked soft, while yes, it was a strange way to categorize someone's features, it felt right. Jisung's gaze was lighter now, less observant and more focused, as though Minho was all he wanted to think about.

It made Minho spiral.

His brain still couldn't wrap around Jisung's sudden attitude change. He assumed the distance gave Jisung a lot of time to deliberate, to worry, maybe to stress. "What were you doing in here?" Minho's voice was quieter, more sheltered, even though it was only the two of them in the silence of Jisung's kitchen.

It wasn't pressuring, possibly just mere curiosity from Minho. Jisung blinked at him, as though he was trying to remember his previous state.

"Mm," He hummed, "Just thinking."

Minho tilted his head at that, it was a broad two words.

"Thinking 'bout what?" Minho adjured, eyebrows slowly pulling together.

Jisung chuckled, eyes pulling away for a split second, before returning to Minho's. "You, actually." He practically whispered, tone low. Jisung's words made Minho's stomach flip.

"Really? What about me?" Minho perked, a curious expression planted on his face, eyes slightly widened. Jisung cautiously bit his lip at that, though his gaze did not waver.

"Uh– Lots of stuff. Can't really say."

Minho's eyes got impossibly wider, can't say? "Like, sexually?"

Jisung immediately retracted, his own eyes mirroring Minho's. "Oh – Shit, no, well, – fuck – I guess a little, but no, no that's not what I meant," he fumbled around his words, stuttering like it was a second language.