maybe it's always been you┊ °❀ [ minsung ]

⋆ ★ 01

Minho glares angrily at the couch cushion, his annoyance proving to be a very adamant distraction from the movie playing a few feet away. It's not the couch's fault entirely, the piece of furniture is doing what it's meant to do extremely well.

That's where the problem arises. See, if the couch weren't doing its job, he and Jisung wouldn't be sitting on it. They would be perched on the floor, backs aching from the lack of support, groaning every few seconds about how they should've gotten carpet instead of hardwood.

Unfortunately for Minho, the couch works perfectly fine, meaning wherever Minho chooses to curl up, Jisung is right by his side, breathing into his space and selflessly offering his body heat.

It shouldn't be a problem that he and Jisung are cuddling—they do it often. The reason behind Minho's turmoil, however, emerges from both Minho's lack of sex recently and Jisung's hand on his thigh.

While as tragic as his inability to focus on the movie may be, it's worse that he has to focus his energy on not getting hard and shoving himself into Jisung's lap. It's a bit infuriating—if Minho had to place it into a category—that while Jisung feels up the bare skin of his thigh, fingertips inching just barely beneath Minho's sleep shorts, he gets to enjoy the movie. It's one of Jisung's favorites, Minho's too, one they can only watch together because the plot is so bad that the best part of the film is the jokes they make about it.

Minho wishes he were laughing right now. Occasionally when Jisung chuckles, he will too, it's force of habit. Sometimes it'll pair with an inadvertent wince, and his thigh will tighten between Jisung's fingers as the younger clamps down on the muscle in between a loud cackle. Minho can't be sure if Jisung is aware of what he's doing, but Minho wouldn't rule out the possibility.

Jisung's been acting... Different for a while now.

Casual touches that grasp too hard to be coincidental, stares that linger for too long, words that could mean too many things. It's screwing with Minho's head.

Minho knows he's attractive. He's sure Jisung is at least aware of the fact—he sees the way the younger's eyes snap to him. But it's never been so purposeful before, never so carefully placed and not-so-effectively hidden. Shoved away like he wants Minho to get a peek at what he's doing but never have the ability to fully understand it.

And Jisung's touches are too calculated, almost settled perfectly in between a friendly touch and one not so much. Complacent enough that Minho can't call him out for it—can't ask Jisung why he's got his fingernails practically digging into Minho's skin because it's easily disguised as something not deliberate.

If this was a one-time occurrence, Minho would question his own beliefs, chalk it up to it being too long since he's had sex, and call it a day. But it's been happening for a week now, isolated incidents that have Minho pondering Jisung's best friend status. That have Minho considering his own thoughts about Jisung on the matter.

He won't deny that he thinks Jisung is attractive either. If Jisung weren't his closest friend, Minho would've jumped him already. Cute, boyish features, wide eyes, and a charming personality—Minho wouldn't have wasted a second to sensually crawl his way into Jisung's life.

It's not like that though. Which is what makes Jisung's hand creeping up his thigh particularly confusing.

He needs to get Jisung to stop soon. His thighs have always been sensitive, especially the higher you go up. Puzzling enough, though, Minho can't find a place within him to ask Jisung to stop. Partly of humiliation and mostly because it feels nice, comforting even—when looking past the fact that it's making him equal parts horny.