Do that again || MINSUNG

IV

They had P.E. together. Shouldn't be a big deal. Except for that they were running track and Jisung looked like a fucking god, sweat trickling down his body and his hair stuck to his forehead, muscles protruding through the clothing that was stuck to his body.

He, himself, probably looked like a mess. Ugly, his too long bangs covering his eyes, sweating so unattractively. If his shirt stuck to him like Jisung's did, he would also look fat. Fat and ugly pig, you can't escape that.

Minho was struggling with the next lap, having done four already. It was five laps for a sufficient mark, you can do this. No matter how much he told himself that, his lungs seemed to get smaller by the second. The air he inhaled burned in his chest, breathing so loudly and quickly that he felt like he was going to pass out. His heart was deafeningly beating in his ears and his legs felt heavy, one misstep and he was going to fall, get a heart attack and die, maybe.

"Look at him, he's barely doing four laps," Jisung scoffed as he sped up, leaving his friends behind to run next to Minho.

"You okay there, kitty?" he asked, voice softer now that it was just the two of them. He worried greatly for Minho, he wasn't that good at sports, and his loud panting was making him concerned.

"Hold my hand, okay?"

Minho couldn't help but nod vigorously with sweating hands tightly clamping the other's. He didn't want to ever let go, just hold his hand forever. He could ignore the tightness around his chest and he could ignore his legs feeling like a pair of bricks. If he had Jisung, he could ignore it all.

He did end up running the five laps and 400 meter extra, one lap being 1400 meters. After the teacher whistled, he collapsed on the ground, his head feeling heavy. When he reached lap five, Jisung let go and left him behind, probably to pull his own grade up a bit.

Minho's mind was cloudy, his vision foggy. He can barely breathe, laying in starfish position. His head was pounding, he was too out of shape for this.

He wanted to go to Jisung, he wanted, no, needed to be in his arms right now. He needed to feel him, make sure he's here. Sungie, he needed his Sungie. But he couldn't. He couldn't, it'd ruin Jisung mentally.

He looked over, noticing how he was talking with Eunha, the voice in his head going wild at the way he laughed at something she said. He's leaving you for her, he's leaving you for her, he's leaving you for her. She's skinny, you're fat. She isn't clumsy or stupid like you. She looks pretty, you don't. Ugly fat pig. Jisung would make a better match with her than with you, why are you being so selfish, wanting him all for yourself?

"Jisung, did I see that right? You, holding hands with Minho?" Her voice sounded disgusted at the mention of Minho's name, her nose scrunching up.

"Yeah, right? Little gay boy wanted to hold my hand," the older boy laughed, throwing his head back ever so slightly to let the breeze catch the hair that had been stuck to his forehead not too long ago.

"You think he likes you, then? He's looking at you right now, it's honestly kind of creeping me out," Eunha said, making a gagging sound as Jisung laughed at her. The younger boy turned around to look at Minho, who blushed when they made eye contact. Luckily that wasn't very obvious, because his face was already red from running so much.

"I'm sure he doesn't, you must be fucking mental to fall in love with someone who's nothing but mean to you all the time."

"Well, you did hold his hand just now. Oh, I just got an idea! What if you play with his feelings a little, you know, and after he's head over heels in love with you, you dump him?"

Jisung pondered the idea for a second. It would mean he and Minho could be around each other at school, but he'd have to dump him in the end. No, he couldn't do that to his baby. He couldn't cause him more pain than he is already doing. But, shit, he was terrified. Would Eunha get mad at him if he rejected it?