Work Text:
“Remind me why we had to settle for Chinese again?”
Jisung attempted to fish out the last egg roll at the bottom of his takeout box with his uneven chopsticks, huffing whenever he would get close only to fail miserably. Minho couldn’t stop the breathy laugh from escaping his lips, aiming his empty box at the trashcan across the room and smirking triumphantly as it landed inside without touching the rim.
“Well, we did have reservations for the new barbeque place that opened up last week,” Minho reached for the bottle of soju, pouring a glass for Jisung and himself. “But someone decided to start watching Spirited Away for the millionth time an hour before we had to leave, and now here we are having a Ghibli marathon with the only takeout option that’s still open after 10pm,” His words lacked any sort of malice, but still earned him a pout and a light shove from the younger man.
“But couldn’t they have at least given us forks?”
“Right, because when I walk into a Chinese restaurant, the very first thing I see are forks.”
“Hyung!”
Minho simply smirked before handing the other man his glass and reverting his attention back to the laptop screen, his eyes widening at the sight of an all-too-familiar title screen.
He remembered a night similar to the one they were currently sharing, a night filled with soju and Chinese takeout and a movie marathon that lasted until Jisung’s laptop fan roared louder than the movies themselves. A few too many glasses of soju led Minho into a long tear-filled spiel about country roads and violins, one that he was certain Jisung barely listened to due to him drooling over Howl’s luscious blond locks. Yet as the opening scene played out and Jisung sent a knowing smile in his direction before turning back to the screen, Minho stared in awe at the man next to him, happy to have been proven wrong.
Minho tried his best to pay attention to the movie, Jisung had put it on for him, after all. But whether it was at the sound of a precious giggle or at the feeling of a head snuggling closer into his shoulder, he couldn’t help but turn his attention back to the man next to him. He couldn’t help it, Jisung was too damn cute. How the hell did he manage to score the kindest, cutest, sweetest, most thoughtful, most intelligent-
“Ah, fuck,” Minho was taken out of his reverent stupor by the movie pausing and the sight of a soju stain spoiling his bedsheets.
Jisung turned to face him with a sheepish smile, “Sorry Lino hyung, I know you just washed these.”
Any possible amount of irritation the older could have felt was wiped away by that smile, but Minho wasn’t about to let him know that. “I still have some in my cup. I could pour some on that blanket you really like, call it even.”
“Hyung!”
“Or I could unpause the movie while you go and clean the sheets.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“I mean, you never know. What if I decide to watch the whole movie without you?”
“Nah, you love me too much to let that happen.”
Jisung took the opportunity to stick his tongue out and rush to the kitchen to grab napkins before Minho could say anything else. But he wouldn’t have needed to anyway. Every potential quip or attempt to deflect had dissolved right before they reached Minho’s tongue.
It wasn’t like he was wrong.
As cliche as it sounded, Minho didn’t think truly falling in love with someone was possible for the longest time. Sure, he had serious relationships in the past, but they all inevitably ended in heartbreak and the strengthening of his belief that finding long-lasting love was damn near impossible.
And then Jisung walked into his life.
Seven years ago, Minho would’ve scoffed at the idea of even being in the same room as the goofy and slightly irritating squirrel-looking boy, let alone dating and moving in with him. He wondered what that same Minho from seven years ago would think if he saw him now: sitting in their shared bed in their shared apartment, fingers idly grazing over the temporarily empty spot next to him. Would he still scoff? Would he lament over the fact that Minho has to deal with a lifetime supply of snacks and a steadily depleting wallet everyday? Or would the secretly-lonely bastard be happy for him? Be relieved from knowing that all of the heartbreak he had to suffer through was finally worth it in the end?
“Linoooo, you’re missing the best part!”
Minho hadn’t even realized that Jisung had come back and started the movie again, barely even registering a dip in the bed, a hand holding his, and the newly formed napkin stack where the soju spillage once was. He turned his attention back to the screen where, sure enough, his favorite scene of the film was playing. As the backing instrumentals grew louder and Minho found himself humming along to the familiar tune, a certain line made him pause.
“Country road may lead me home, know I belong there all on my own…”
He belonged there all on his own. But…that wasn’t the case, was it? If he were to brave these country roads all by himself, who would be there to shove mountains of snacks in his hands without warning? Who would whine every two minutes about being tired and want to set up camp in the middle of nowhere? Who would endlessly threaten to walk back home yet never stray more than two feet away from him, trudging the whole way while swinging their arms together?
Minho’s thought process was once again interrupted, this time by excited tugs on his sweater sleeve.
“Hyung, hyung, I did it!” Minho turned around, unable to keep his besotted smile at bay at the sight of Jisung excitedly waving an eggroll in his face, said eggroll perfectly perched between his two uneven chopsticks. The smile on his boyfriend’s face was infectious, every little thing about him was infectious. His heart shaped lips, the way his eyes lit up anytime he was excited. Every little goddamn thing.
“Lino hyung?” Jisung’s voice cut through the faint sound of movie dialogue and the harsh laptop fan. He loved the way that name fell from his lips. He wanted to hear it forever.
The words tumbled out of Minho’s mouth before he could stop himself, “Marry me.”
Both of their eyes widened. The chopsticks and egg roll slipped out of Jisung’s hand and landed among the growing mess on the floor. Minho averted his gaze to the floor’s new additions, his shattered heart would probably join them soon.
“Hyung, what…” Jisung’s voice trailed off, quickly pausing the movie again and staring in shock at his boyfriend, who was now a shaking mess.
“I, um…ah, shit, this isn’t even close to how I wanted it to happen, but uh-”
Minho’s hands were trembling as he reached into his back pocket, fumbling around until his fingers landed on an all-too familiar object.
The ring box had made a home in his coat and back pockets for so long he had nearly forgotten what it looked like. And now the dark red velvet was out in the open for both of them to see, accompanied only by the sound of his hammering heart.
“I swear I had a whole speech prepared and everything, and it had a whole opening spiel about how we’ve been best friends for seven years and together for four but,” he rambled on as he opened the box, the silver band shimmering in the dimly lit room. “I guess I have to go off the cuff, which I swear I didn’t want to do, I swear I wanted to do this right because you deserve for this to be done right but, fuck am I speaking too fast? I’m probably speaking too fast, aren’t I?” Minho swallowed as his mind ran a mile a minute, completely unable to decipher the emotion behind Jisung’s wide eyes.
“Well,” he cleared his throat, “now that I’ve gone and made a complete fool out of myself, um…God, I have no idea where to even begin now, there’s just…no words. Nothing’s coming to me, there’s no words to describe how I’m feeling right now…how I’ve felt since the day we first met, really. You sure know how to make a stuttering fool out of a man. And of course I mean that in a good way! I sounded like a fucking asshole for a second there. My god, I’m going all over the place now. Look, I just…I just really fucking love you. Like, a lot. And I wish I had done this the way I wanted to with flowers and candles and a homemade chocolate cheesecake, but I guess I have to settle for slightly soggy Chinese food and soy-sauce stained bedsheets, which isn’t fair to you because that isn’t what you deserve. You deserve something that’s equal to your worth but I don’t think even that’s possible because you’re worth the whole fucking galaxy to me, Han Jisung. And I just know,” Minho swallowed the lump forming in his throat, trying and failing to hold back his tears, “I just know that if you give me the chance, I’ll spend the rest of my life working to give all of that to you and more.”
A warm hand thumbed at his cheek, wiping the tears that had freshly rolled down. Another hand held onto the ones with a tight grip on the ring box, easing their shaking. But Jisung still hadn’t said anything. And maybe that’s for the best, Minho thought, as this was probably Jisung’s way of letting him down easy as opposed to outright saying he doesn’t accept. Which is why he immediately started talking again as he saw Jisung’s about to open his mouth, unable to bear the thought of hearing the inevitable rejection that would leave it.
“And it’s okay if you say no! I mean, it would suck, like a lot. You would probably want to move out and I don’t blame you at all for that and I’d probably spend the rest of my life holed up in this apartment that would suddenly be a lot emptier without all those Chainsaw Man volumes and empty Pringles cans. But I mean, I did say I’d do anything to give you what you deserve for the rest of your life, so even if that means letting you go then I’ll-”
Hands grasping his face and a pair of lips pressing themselves against his rendered him silent. It took a few seconds for Minho to even register what was happening before he slammed the box down on the bed and reached for Jisung’s waist, deepening the kiss as his eyes fluttered shut and he pulled their bodies close.
As they pulled apart after what seemed like hours, Minho’s eyes remained shut. While it had been the best possible way to interrupt his incessant rambling, he still couldn’t shake off the feeling that it had been nothing more than Jisung’s way of showing him pity. It wasn’t until he felt a gentle tug at his arm that he finally decided to take a deep breath and open his eyes. The sight of a teary-eyed Jisung with the biggest smile he had ever seen on his face was nearly enough to get the tears rolling down his face again. But it was the words that tumbled out of his mouth that elicited a sob from him:
“So are you gonna just sit there or are you gonna put that ring on me?”
—
Bonus:
“So, who do you think is going to cry first when we tell them?” The two of them were wrapped inside of Jisung’s favorite blanket, their faces significantly puffier but eyes no longer red.
Jisung’s head rested on Minho’s shoulder, his eyes fixated on the silver ring decorating his finger, “Felix, one-hundred percent. He is the resident crybaby of the group after all.”
“Jagi, don’t be ridiculous. Channie-hyung is right there. He’ll probably say some shit like ‘Look at my babies, they’re all grown up’ before bawling his eyes out.”
“I’ll bet you 500 won.”
“I’ll bet 1,000 plus you have to do my laundry for the rest of the week.”
“Hyung!”