a love letter to us
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“Don’t tell Chan hyung I said this,” Jisung starts, his voice a murmur, a secret between the two of them. “But I hate the new dorms.”
Minho doesn’t tell him about the dreams he has. There are things they share with each other, and things they don’t. It’s a comfortable habit, a familiar truth. Minho thinks— he thinks if he tells Jisung he dreams of a future he spends with him, it would break the habit, and it would cost him the comfort of waking up from those dreams to find Jisung wrapped in his arms.
“Yeah,” he says, because he may not share everything with Jisung, but he is not a liar, he cannot deny that he too hates them. But he can’t let them soak in the truth for too long a time either. He follows it in the same breath with, “We should get up.”
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or: Jisung keeps sleeping in Minho's bed. Minho keeps dreaming of him.
Series
- Part 1 of a love letter to us
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He’s halfway across the kitchen now. Jisung doesn’t answer. Only laughs into Minho’s skin when he hugs him from the back, arms snug around his waist. He closes his eyes and breathes. Beneath the delicious smell of food, there’s the scent of Minho, body shower and sleep and skin and Minho. He nuzzles his nose there. Minho turns the stove off and slips his eyes shut, melting into it.
It’s new, this intimacy, the privacy, the gift of sharing moments like these, just the two of them.
And yet it’s also familiar, natural like it’s always been there, dormant in their bodies without them having to learn their way around it, like an infant’s ability to float without any swimming lessons.
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or: Minho unknowingly, and sometimes knowingly, helps Jisung find the confidence to live with him.
Series
- Part 2 of a love letter to us