just text me ; minsung

xi.

"He's really willing to do you like that, huh?" Minho sighs, wrapping his arm around a stressed Jisung and holding him close.

"I wish he didn't always set me up for comedy," Jisung admits. He also wishes Minho can't feel the uneven pace of his heartbeat.

Minho looks down at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Care to elaborate?"

"He and all my other friends base all their jokes around me. It hurts sometimes."

Minho nods, "You know, ever since you first texted me, I've felt a lot happier."

Jisung weakly smiled into Minho's shoulder. "Why'd you even put your number in the stall, of all places?"

The older boy tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth. "Uh, well, definitely wasn't planning on telling you so soon, or even in person, but someone really close to me passed away. I knew I was hitting rock bottom and I couldn't afford a therapist to listen to my problems, so I put my number out there. Free therapy, y'know?"

Jisung turns in Minho's arms to look up at the boy. "But why Lee's Kitchen?"

"It was her favorite restaurant. She liked the little flowers on the wall at that one booth near the kitchen. Plus, sitting near the kitchen got her the food quicker by fifteen seconds," Minho smiled a little as if he was reliving a memory right then and there.

Jisung wanted to know everything. He wanted to be Minho's shoulder to cry on. He wanted to know everything about her, whoever she was, and whatever relation she had with Minho. And most importantly, he wanted to know why his heart was fluttering with every word Minho spoke to him.

"I'm sorry for not texting you earlier. I'm sorry for not being there for you," Jisung finally says.

"God," Minho looks up at the ceiling in hopes to drain the tears glossing his eyes.

"Wait, follow me," Jisung reaches for Minho's hand, leading him down the hall to his room.

The room was messy, per usual, but Minho couldn't care to notice. He was too focused on not crying his eyes out in front of Jisung.

"Lay down," Jisung commanded, gesturing to his bed.

Hesitantly, Minho obeys. Jisung leans over his desk to pull the blinds shut. Green irradiates the room, just enough for the boys to make out each other's bodies. Jisung lays beside Minho and cradles him like his mother used to do for him when he was little.

"When I used to have nightmares, my mom used to hold me like this. She would point to that star right above us and tell me that the star held her love for me."

"Is Han Jisung confessing his love for me?" Minho jokes.

It truly would be a miracle if he didn't hear Jisung's heart pounding in his chest. "I guess you could say that."

Minho turns a little to face Jisung, breath lingering together. He throws an arm over Jisung's waist, shuffling a little closer.

"I love you too, Jisung," Minho mumbles, nose brushing against Jisung's before his lips searched the dark for their pair.