Love you dangerously | Minsung

29

The day had been normal enough.

School.

Boba.

Minho kissing his cheek before disappearing with some excuse about "meeting Hyunjin for a group project" that definitely wasn't a group project.

So naturally, Jisung got bored.

And when Jisung got bored... he got curious.

And when Jisung got curious?

Shit went downhill.

He was in their room.

Alone. 

Waiting. 

Definitely not snooping.

Okay—maybe a little snooping.

It started harmlessly. His hoodie smelled like Minho, and Jisung may or may not have melted into the bed for like ten minutes. 

Then his eyes landed on the drawer Minho always locked.

Except today? It wasn't.

He hesitated.

"Just one peek," he whispered, like that made it morally okay.

The drawer slid open with a quiet creak.

Inside was papers, black gloves, a burner phone... 

and a folded file stamped with the word CONFIDENTIAL.

Jisung stared.

"...Minho, what the hell are you into?" he muttered, pulling the file closer.

He flipped it open—

Target: Hwang Dojin
Status: Eliminated.
Confirmed by: Lee Know.
Report sent to: BRIAN.

Jisung's stomach dropped.

He blinked. Once. Twice. Heart thudding louder with each second.

Lee Know? Isn't that a member of the mafia group..?

Brian?

The name circled in his mind like a siren.

His dad's name was Brian. Han Soohyuk. But... no way. Right? No way.

His fingers trembled as he flipped to the next page—Photos. Surveillance shots. A warehouse. Blurred figures.

"No..." Jisung whispered, stepping back.

The room felt like it was closing in.

Everything—every lie, every absence, every injury Minho brushed off with a smile—it all clicked together in the ugliest way.

He slammed the drawer shut.

The front door creaked.

"Babe?" Minho's voice, casual and warm from the hallway. "I got snacks... thought we could—"

He froze when he entered the room.

Jisung stood there, stiff and pale, the confidential file still on the bed.

Silence.

Minho's gaze dropped. Then rose slowly to meet Jisung's eyes.

"You went through my drawer," he said, voice flat.

Jisung swallowed. "You... kill people?"

Minho didn't answer.

He stepped forward, carefully, like approaching a frightened animal.

"I can explain."

"No," Jisung said, voice cracking. "You can't."

"Ji—"

"You hid it from me."

Minho flinched like he'd been punched. "I didn't mean to. I was protecting—"

"From what?!" Jisung's voice shook. "From you?!"

And then quieter, "Is this why you always looked so scared to let me in?"

Minho's lips parted, but no words came out.

Jisung backed away. "I need to go."

"Please don't."

But Jisung was already slipping past him, hoodie half-on, shoes barely tied.

He stopped at the doorway, voice trembling. "And do you have any fucking idea about who is Brian?"

Minho stood frozen.

Jisung didn't wait for an answer.

The door slammed shut behind him.

And Minho... broke.