Work Text:
When most people describe customer service jobs, they use words like “soul-sucking” and “dead end” and “get a real career, you fucking loser”.
Minho would tend to agree, however it isn’t all that bad. He finds small joys in placing customers on hold and forcing them to listen to Soft Sounds of the 70s or taking as many smoke breaks as he wants without a care in the world. It’s easy enough and he makes a livable wage so he doesn’t complain.
It wasn’t exactly where he thought he would end up but he didn’t mind too much.
If you asked him when he was ten what he wanted to be when he grew up, he would have said a circus performer. He tried that, but he couldn’t juggle to save his life, so it didn’t really work out. Bummer.
His roommate Hyunjin had put in a good word for him at the call center he works at, and Minho owed three months of backpay for rent so he took what he could get.
It isn’t all that bad. Really.
However there is this one thing…
Hyunjin picks up the phone after the second ring. His feet are kicked up on his desk and he’s leaned back in his chair like he fucking owns the place. “Hello, how can I help— oh.” He places a hand over the receiver and turns his body towards Minho. “It’s for you.”
Minho frowns.
He knows it’s Jisung.
Again.
“Fuuuuuuck my life.” He groans.
Hyunjin grins like an idiot and transfers the call because he likes to watch Minho suffer.
“Hey baby.” Jisung breathes heavily into the mic. “I missed your voice. How’s work?”
“I don’t know you.” Minho says flatly. He really needs a smoke break now. “How many numbers do I need to block, Jisung? I don’t understand how you keep getting through.”
A small gasp. “You remembered my name!”
“No. No, I didn’t. Stop.” Minho lies. Jisung has called enough times for him to just know by now. Unfortunately. He can’t let Jisung know that or else he would never shut up about it. And it’s hard enough to get him to shut up in the first place. “It’s the 21st century. We have this thing called caller ID.”
Jisung scoffs at that. “I know you’re lying because I’m calling from Yongbok’s phone.”
“Who’s Yongbok?” Minho pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs heavily. “Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t care. Stop calling, Jisung.”
“I love it when you say my name.” Jisung giggles. “Okay, baby. I’ll talk to you tomorrow!”
The line goes dead and Minho slams his head into his desk.
How ironic that the call center he works at is for a pest control company when the only pest he is plagued by is the repeat caller that won’t leave him alone. He wonders if the exterminators would take care of that for him if he asked nicely enough. Fumigate the Jisung out of his life.
Minho lifts his head slowly.
“I need a cigarette.”
-
Hyunjin and Minho are leaning up against the concrete wall beside the dumpster.
Smoke break time. Minho’s favorite five minutes every hour he’s on the clock. Especially after a call from Jisung. Sometimes he even takes ten minutes if he’s feeling frisky. This feels like a ten minute circumstance.
“I just don’t get it.” Minho complains with a cigarette dancing between his fingers. He lit it a couple of minutes ago but hasn’t even had one puff yet. “He’s been calling every day for like a month now. I have no idea who he is. He started calling me baby, Hyunjin. Like, who does that? What does he even want?”
“You, obviously.” Hyunjin snatches the cigarette from his hand and takes a drag. Minho looks at him unimpressed but gives it up to him regardless. “He always asks for you.”
Minho lets his head fall against the wall. It lands with a soft thunk. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”
“It’s only a problem if you make it a problem.” Hyunjin shrugs. “He seems nice.”
Minho thinks back on the very first time Jisung called in. Before he became a regular fixture in his work routine.
The first words out of his mouth after Minho said his usual call greeting in the most monotone voice ever was something along the lines of: “I think I’m in love with you. I mean. Your voice. I’m in love with your voice. I mean. Fuck.”
And then he hung up.
He called back thirty minutes later and hasn’t given up since.
Sometimes Minho wonders if he still has an actual pest problem at home that he has chosen to ignore in favor of just talking to Minho instead. He has never once actually booked the service. He must have had a reason to call into the company in the first place, right?
“He’s fucking weird.” Minho rolls his eyes.
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow and smirks. He flicks the butt of the cigarette to the ground and toes it out. Holds the door open for Minho on the way back in even.
“And you aren’t?”
-
The next day is much the same as every other day.
Minho answers the phone and sighs heavily through his nostrils. He doesn’t even bother with the standard company greeting. He can recognize Jisung at this point just by the sound of his heavy breathing.
“Sooo… like, what are you wearing?” Jisung asks right off the bat. He pulls no punches today. Jumping straight into it.
He sounds like he’s probably laying in bed and twirling his hair around his finger like a lovesick puppy, Minho thinks. Feet kicking in the air and scribbling hearts into a fucking diary or something. He finds himself sort of wishing that he knew what Jisung looked like so he could picture it better in his head.
Wait a minute… No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t wish for that.
“These calls are recorded, Jisung.” Minho says with no emotion behind his voice.
He hopes that the more detached and uninterested he sounds the more it will deter Jisung from calling in again. It seems to have the opposite effect. It only spurs Jisung on more, he knows that.
Minho still does it anyway.
“Yeah, I know.” Jisung replies casually. He really just doesn’t care.
“You’re lucky I don’t hang up on you.”
Jisung pauses for a moment. “Why don’t you?”
Minho has to think about that one, actually. Why doesn’t he? He really should.
“Good point.”
He goes to hang up but the voice on the other end of the line sounds too pitiful to follow through. His finger hovers uselessly over the end call button as he listens to Jisung whine through the phone. He isn’t even sure if he had the intention to really hit it in the first place.
“Baby wait, no, stop!”
Minho lets out a little grunt of annoyance. “What, Jisung?”
“You didn’t answer my question.” The ferocity of Jisung’s pout is audible over the phone. It’s almost impressive, actually. Minho feels like he can picture it perfectly, even if he doesn’t know what he looks like. “What are you wearing?”
Minho doesn’t know why he decides to entertain that with an answer, but he does.
“Jeans and a shirt.”
Jisung wheezes in response. “That’s so hot actually. Send me a picture? Please?”
Minho rolls his eyes. “Goodbye, Jisung.”
-
Hyunjin walks up to Minho’s desk with a hot cup of coffee from the convenience store.
The coffee maker in the break room mysteriously broke months ago and no one has really cared enough to fix or replace it. It made shit coffee anyway. Minho was the one who broke it. On purpose.
“Have you heard from Jisung today?” Hyunjin asks, holding out a cup for Minho.
“The bane of my existence? No, not yet.” Minho takes the coffee and breathes in the steam. He lets the warmth of the cup thaw out his fingers. It feels nice. Someone always cranks up the air conditioner in the tiny office. He thinks the lady three desks down is trying to freeze him out. “Why do you ask?”
Hyunjin grins as he sips from his own cup. “No reason. I just wanted to know if you started playing nice with him. I think he liiiikes you. You should go for it, you know.”
“Stop trying to set me up with my work stalker.” Minho glares at him. Hyunjin is a hopeless romantic. Of course he would think being obsessively called and flirted with is more sweet than annoying. Not Minho though. Minho hates it. He hates it so much. “Jisung is just a nuisance to me. Nothing more.”
Hyunjin hums to himself. Holds the rim of his cup at his lips. “Keep telling yourself that, Minho. Maybe tell him that, too, if it’s how you really feel.”
“I have!” Minho protests. “Many times actually.”
“Have you really, though?” Hyunjin tilts his head to the side with squinted eyes.
Of course Minho has.
Right?
Isn’t that the message he was trying to get across when he blocked the first three numbers that Jisung had called from?
He only stopped blocking the numbers because it was too much of a hassle to keep up with.
He only lets his coworkers transfer Jisung to him because he feels bad that they would have to deal with him instead if he didn’t.
He only lets Jisung continue talking when they’re on the phone and entertains his questions with answers and responds when he calls him baby because… because…
“Oops.” Minho lurches forward and accidentally spills his drink on Hyunjin’s pant leg on purpose. He deserves it for making Minho think. “I’m sooooo sorry, Hyunjin. Oh man. Oh no. You should go get some tissues. That looks like it’s gonna stain. My bad.”
Hyunjin sends him daggers as he wipes frustratedly at his pants. “I fucking hate you. These are my good jeans, Minho. I’m never getting you coffee again. You’re such a bitch.”
Fuck.
Minho didn’t think about the coffee part.
-
Another day, another call from Jisung.
“Hey, baby.”
Ugh.
Minho closes his eyes and tilts his head towards the ceiling. He takes a deep breath to center himself. It doesn’t work. “This is getting old, Jisung. What do you want? Do you even need an exterminator?”
“Can’t a guy just like talking to you?” Jisung replies in earnest.
“A normal guy, maybe.” Minho says. “But you? I don’t know.”
“I’m very normal.” Jisung scoffs as if he is offended.
Minho snorts. “Yeah, okay, and I’m the Virgin Mary.”
“I like the sound of that.” Jisung exhales fondly. “I can just picture it. You in all white–”
“Okay, that’s it, I’m hanging up now.”
“I miss you already!”
-
Jisung has decided to engage more in actual conversation these days as opposed to just breathing into the receiver and calling Minho baby every two minutes. Minho can’t decide which he prefers more.
Neither. The answer is neither. Obviously.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Jisung asks boldly.
Minho can not in good conscience tell Jisung that he is single. Absolutely not. That would be like telling a bunch of bees that you have their honey and not expecting to be stung for it. So Minho says the only other option he can think of.
“I’m not gay.”
Jisung bursts out laughing at that. “You’re so funny, Minho. But really, do you have a boyfriend?”
“Yes.” Minho replies. It’s no use to pretend that water isn’t wet. So the next best option is to be unavailable. Maybe that will help. Somehow Minho doubts it.
“I bet I could kick his ass.” Jisung says. He rustles around on the other end. It sounds like he’s sitting up in bed. “Who is he? Is it someone you work with– is it Hyunjin? I could definitely kick Hyunjin’s ass. He sounds like he’s made of paper mache and toothpicks whenever he answers a call. Put him on the line, let me talk to him.”
“Yes, Jisung, you got me.” Minho prays to whatever call center God there is that they don’t pick this call to grade him on. He would probably be fired on the spot for what he’s about to say. It breaks so many rules. “I’m dating Hyunjin and I fuck him real good every night in our shared apartment. He loves it. Can you leave me alone now?”
Hyunjin looks at Minho absolutely horrified. He sticks a finger in his mouth and gags at the thought of them ever sleeping together. They never have, and they never will, but Jisung sure as hell doesn’t need to know that. Minho offers Hyunjin an apologetic shrug and points lazily at the phone on his ear.
“It’s Jisung.” Minho mouths in his direction. Hyunjin seems to understand, but the look of disgust doesn’t leave his face as he turns back to his own desk to continue working on his five foot long paper clip chain.
The line goes quiet then for a moment. Surely Jisung didn’t hang up first, there’s no way. Minho relishes in the silence briefly until Jisung decides to speak up again.
“So you’re a top then? I knew it. Yongbok owes me money. Also I know you’re not dating Hyunjin. He told me.”
Minho blinks.
If he smirks too, well, that’s between himself and the sweater sleeve that he’s hiding it behind.
“What is wrong with you, Jisung? Stop calling. Bye.”
-
A week later Jisung is still pestering Minho with personal questions on the clock. Through the call center phones. Keeping Minho from his much needed smoke breaks. Helping him avoid having to do any real work.
One of these days he’s probably going to get in trouble for these stupid calls with Jisung, but it hasn’t happened yet, so Minho’s not too concerned.
Jisung is eating something, Minho thinks. He speaks while he chews. It’s a little gross, but Minho can’t find it in himself to hang up on him today. The lines are busier than usual so it’s a good distraction for him.
That’s what Minho tells himself while none of the other phones in the office ring a single time. Hyunjin is folding a piece of paper into an origami swan next to him out of boredom. Whatever.
“What do you like to do for fun?” Jisung asks.
“Arson.” Minho replies. “And pottery.”
“Sick. I make music.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“I know, but I wanted to tell you. I make music.”
“Okay.”
“I wrote a song about you.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want to hear it?”
“No.”
“Let me grab my guitar, one sec.”
There is some shuffling on the other end of the line.
Minho truly does contemplate hanging up. Seriously. He contemplates it for so long that he’s still on the call when Jisung gets back with his guitar. He’s even contemplating it while Jisung strums and sings and laughs in his ear. He plays the whole song, and then two more after that.
Minho doesn’t hang up.
Jisung has a nice voice.
Shit.
-
Minho goes four whole days without receiving a call from Jisung.
It’s a new record.
A win for Minho. A well deserved break from the incessant pestering.
Right?
Then why does his job feel so much more soul-sucking all of the sudden?
-
Jisung calls in again on day five. Minho knows it’s him because of the heavy breathing, of course. Minho always knows.
“Did you miss me, baby?”
Ugh.
“Not really.” Minho lies with practiced ease. More to himself than to Jisung probably. “No.”
Jisung laughs all sweet and cute. “It’s okay, I missed you too.”
“Where were you?” Minho immediately regrets asking, even if he is actually kind of curious. It wasn’t like Jisung to miss a day, let alone four. They had a routine. Minho likes routine. Sue him. He makes sure to tack on a necessary addendum to the original question, “Not that I care.”
“You don’t?” Jisung inquires like he knows Minho is lying. Fuck.
“No.”
Jisung hums. “Well then, I guess I won’t tell you.”
“Okay.” Minho shrugs, playing it cool. So cool.
“Fine, alright, I’ll tell you!” Jisung says after a few beats of silence. Thank God. Yeah, of course Minho wanted to know. It’s natural to be curious, isn’t it? “I had to go to a song camp with my coworkers and they made me go unplugged for the whole weekend. They took my phone and everything. It sucked. I thought about you the whole time.”
Minho messes with the stapler on his desk because he suddenly feels like he needs to do something with his hands.
He keeps his voice as bland as possible. “Very cool, Jisung. Wow.”
Jisung proceeds to go on a ten minute rant about mosquitos and which guitar brands are better than others and what he thinks frogs would say if they could talk. It’s pure nonsense spilling from his mouth. It’s annoying, really.
Minho listens to every word until his alarm goes off for his fourth smoke break of the day.
He almost doesn’t go. Hyunjin has to come and get him.
-
Hyunjin drags Minho out to the bar one night with his friends and his friends friends and his friends friends friends.
Minho doesn’t really have any friends other than Hyunjin, so he figures it might be good to meet some new people. He really needs to get out so he can stop thinking about Jisung. He doesn’t even know why he is thinking about Jisung. It’s all so silly.
Anyway, he already kind of knows Jeongin and Seungmin through Hyunjin. Jeongin is Hyunjin’s current situationship toeing the line of relationship, and Seungmin is his weird roommate.
Minho’s played Mario Kart with them a few times back at the apartment, but he always just gets really drunk because he loses so often and then subsequently passes out in bed, so this is the first time they’re really getting to spend time together outside.
They arrive at the bar altogether, and Jeongin is immediately tugging Minho towards his friends.
“Minho, these are my friends Chan and Changbin.” Jeongin says with a dimpled smile. Minho always just wants to pinch his cheeks. He turns to the two broad men loitering by the bar to get their attention. “Guys, this is Minho. Jinnie’s roommate.”
“Sup.” Changbin throws a light punch to Minho’s arm. Or what he thinks is a light punch. It’s probably going to bruise in the morning. Minho rubs at the spot in pain and offers a hum of a greeting back.
Chan gives a warm smile. It’s slightly off putting to Minho, but maybe that’s because warmth and kindness is a foreign concept to him. He’s probably a good guy. “Nice to meet you, man.”
Minho nods. “Yeah.”
“Oh, also,” Chan jostles the shoulder of a petite blonde perched at the bar. He turns around with a toothy smile and freckles dotted across his cheeks. He looks like a little cherub, Minho thinks. All that’s missing is the wings. “This is my boyfriend Yongbok.”
“Hey!” His voice is about three octaves too low for his face. It startles Minho a bit, which makes Yongbok laugh. He must get that reaction often, Minho assumes. “Want a drink?”
“Yeah, sure.” Minho replies, sitting down beside his new friends for the night. “Thanks.”
“Of course!”
Minho feels like the name Yongbok sounds familiar to him, like he’s heard it before. There is no way that is a common name. It’s so old school. He can’t recall how he knows it, though. He racks his brain. Yongbok… Yongbok…
Whatever, it will come to him eventually, he’s sure.
-
Minho thinks the twink in the corner booth chewing on his straw is kind of cute.
He keeps stealing glances at him while Chan and Changbin try to talk to him about music or something. Minho isn’t sure because he has kind of tuned them out. He just nods or grunts in agreement every so often so it looks like he’s paying attention.
Jeongin and Hyunjin disappeared shortly after arriving, probably to go make out in the back alley. Seungmin is playing darts with a group of old men. So Minho watches the cute twink.
Eventually Changbin notices, and steers Minho in his direction.
“What–” Minho squirms a little, but Changbin has big biceps so he overpowers him pretty easily.
“This is Jisung.” Changbin gestures towards the corner booth. “He works with me and Chan. He’s been sitting in the corner all night so I think you should keep him company.”
The twink’s eyes go wide when he looks up from where he is picking at his cuticles, his heart shaped mouth making a little ‘o’ at the mention of his name. The straw is still hanging from his mouth when he speaks. “Oh. Hi.”
Wait a minute.
That voice sounds familiar to Minho.
Too familiar.
Yongbok... Jisung... That voice...
And then it hits him like a fucking freight train.
Oh. Oh shit. Fuck. Jisung? As in repeat caller Jisung? As in his Jisung?
There is no way.
Minho blinks and then blinks again. “No. Nope.”
“No?” Changbin echoes, clearly confused. Minho doesn’t blame him.
Jisung looks just as caught off guard after Minho speaks as well. He shoots up and steps between them frantically. His fingers are shaking a little bit. It’s kind of cute, Minho thinks. No it’s not. What.
“Hello, complete and total stranger. It is, like, sooo great to talk to you for the first time ever. Wow. Hi.” He pleads with Minho through his big doe eyes to play along. Bats his lashes a couple of times to drive the point across.
It works like a charm.
Minho’s small heart must grow a half a size bigger then. Jisung just looks so pitiful. His little fingers are poking at the one soft spot Minho has, dammit.
“Yeah, totally. First time. Cool. Hi.”
“Yeah. Uh, hi.” Jisung stares openly at his face without blinking. His mouth is open and it looks like he might even be drooling a little bit. Minho wants to roll up the straw wrapper on the table into a little ball and try to toss it in there. He doesn’t, but he wants to.
“Sorry, he’s a little, um, weird sometimes.” Changbin says as he nudges Jisung in his ribcage.
“Tell me about i–” Minho starts to agree wholeheartedly, but Jisung grabs his forearm and starts dragging him in the opposite direction. Changbin watches on, perplexed at the situation that just unfolded before him. Jisung brings Minho all the way to the bathroom and closes the door behind them. Then he locks it for good measure.
Minho isn’t even scared for some reason.
“Fuck,” Jisung runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck, fuck. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please don’t tell them, Minho. Seriously. It’s so embarrassing.”
“Aw, come on, now I’m Minho?” Minho gives an overexaggerated frown. He pouts out his bottom lip a little for good measure, too. “What happened to baby?”
“Shut up.” Jisung winces a little. “Just– please don’t tell them.”
“Tell them what?” Minho replies, clearly a little amused at Jisung’s blatant embarrassment. “That you’re a frequent flier on the pest control hotline? That you breathe heavily into the phone and write love songs for strangers?”
“Stopppp.” Jisung whines as he looks at the ground. He kicks at his own feet. “It sounds creepy when you put it like that.”
“It is creepy.”
“No, it’s not!” Jisung pouts as he tries to defend himself. It’s almost exactly how Minho pictured it. Fuck. “I thought we had, like, a thing. You know.”
Minho wants to eat him up. Chew him up, spit him out, and then put him back in his mouth for safekeeping. So what if Minho has a crush? Maybe he has the whole time. Who knows, really. Not Jisung, that’s for sure. Minho wouldn’t make it that easy for him.
“What thing?”
“You know, a fun little thing. The whole back and forth.” Jisung motions his hand between the both of them. He looks so much more nervous in person. Minho can still hear his heavy breathing as if it’s coming through the phone receiver. “Our thing.”
Minho smirks at that, but only a little. He doesn’t want to give Jisung the satisfaction just yet. “Yeah, and what gave you that impression?”
“You stopped blocking my number.”
“Because there was no point. You always found a way to get through somehow.”
“And you don’t hang up on me immediately.”
Minho doesn’t really have a response for that one. He’s not wrong.
“I’m sorry. I actually can’t believe you look as hot as you sound on the phone. What the fuck. I see why it's called a hotline.” Jisung blurts out after a brief moment of silence.
Minho nearly chokes on his own spit. “What?”
“Sorry, I just– the only reason I kept calling back was because I think your voice is so hot. And then I started to really like talking to you. And then I wrote like ten songs about you. You’re so hot. And funny. Can I keep calling you? Please?”
Minho laughs through his nostrils. “You’re a little freak, Jisung. You know that?”
Jisung lets out a strangled whine and squeezes his thighs together.
“Wait a minute.” Minho assesses the situation at hand. “Are you– are you hard right now?”
“N-no?” Jisung tries weakly.
Minho lets him see his smirk then. He thinks he deserves it now. “You like being called a little freak? Is that it? Wow.”
“What? No. No, of course not. No.”
Minho raises a brow. He looks down at the very obvious erection that Jisung is sporting in front of him. “Sure, whatever you say, Jisung.”
“Don’t say my name please. I like that, too. Ugh.” Jisung’s hands fly over his crotch to cover himself. His face is entirely flushed. Minho feels kind of flattered honestly. “Fuck, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”
Minho is curious now. He can’t help it anymore. “How was it supposed to go? Tell me.”
“For the record, I never thought I’d actually meet you like in real life. At least not like this.” Jisung explains. He refuses to make eye contact, staring down at his shoes instead. “I had no idea we had mutual friends. Seriously. But when I thought about if I were to meet you, I wanted to, like, ask you out on a date.”
“Oh?” Minho puts two fingers under Jisung’s chin and forces him to look up. “And what made you think I’d say yes?”
“I don’t know. Our thing.” Jisung waves his hand through the air. He blinks his big doe eyes at Minho and his eyebrows pinch up. “Would you though? Say yes?”
Minho leans in a little bit to make sure Jisung can feel his breath when he says “No.”
“Ohmygod, it’s even hotter when you play hard to get.” Jisung whines again. “Please stop or I’m going to ruin my new pants. I just got these from Uniqlo this morning. Please.”
Minho laughs. “Jesus Christ.”
“I prefer just Jisung, actually.” His voice is still small and strained, but there’s the Jisung that Minho knows from all of those phone calls over the past two months. The little bit of arrogance poking through. The back and forth. Their thing.
“You’re an idiot, Jisung.” Minho hardly registers how close they have gotten.
Jisung huffs a little. Minho can feel it on his skin. “I think you like it though. I think you like me, too. Baby.”
The last word steals the air from Minho’s lungs for a moment.
Oh.
Oh, this is bad.
“I have no idea why you would think that.” Minho says, though it comes out sounding much more unconvincing than even he was expecting. Jisung’s little fingers are all jammed into his soft spot and now he’s just making it even bigger.
He does like Jisung, too. Obviously. He always has.
Jisung looks at him doubtingly with a coy smirk. “Really?”
They are very close now. Centimeters away.
“Really.” Minho breathes. The tip of his nose brushes against Jisung’s ever so slightly, and fuck, Minho needs to kiss him, like, right now. It’s urgent. He needs to wipe that smirk off of his face. He needs to keep his mouth shut. He needs to feel the heavy breathing he has become so familiar with against his own mouth. “You’re such a little freak, Jisung.”
When Jisung quite literally moans out loud to that, Minho gives in.
He was always going to, anyway.
-
He knows it’s Jisung because of the heavy breathing. Minho always knows.
“Hey, baby.”
Ugh.
“What, Jisung?” Minho says into the phone as he tidies up his desk. His shift ends in ten minutes and he was really hoping for one last smoke break. “Why are you still calling in? I thought I told you to stop. I’m seriously going to block your number.”
Jisung laughs all sweet and cute. “Can you blame me for wanting to hear the hot pest control call center guy’s voice? It turns me on, I can’t help myself. You know that.”
“What the fuck, Jisung.” Minho lowers his voice so the lady from three desks down who doesn’t like him can’t eavesdrop. “You can’t just say that, these calls are recorded.”
“Yeah, I know.” Jisung says. “But you like it.”
Minho sighs. “What do you want, Jisung?”
“I missed you. And I wanted to hear your voice. Obviously. Also, I’m outside. Hi.”
Minho peeks around his desk to look out the front window.
Sure enough, Jisung is standing outside with a handful of wildflowers and a heart shaped smile, waving at Minho through the glass with his cellphone pressed against his ear.
His hair is wavy and windswept and he's wearing the new pair of Uniqlo pants that Minho got for him when he ruined the other ones the first time they met. His big doe eyes reflect the sun, the moon, and all of the stars.
Minho can see it even from all the way at his desk.
“You have my number, Jisung. We are literally dating. Stop calling the hotline to talk to me, seriously.” Minho says flatly through a smile he can’t hold back. How could he? Jisung is right there. “I’ll be out in ten. I’m hanging up now. Bye.”
“I miss you already!”