Chapter Text
“…I’m sorry…can you— wh— you took Han out… where?”
“I took him out…to Namsan Tower.”
Changbin, bless him, spits water out so fast and so far that Minho sees droplets on the dining room table.
Chan, by contrast, is seated.
Unnervingly quiet, too.
And Minho?
He’s…afraid when Bang Chan gets quiet all of a sudden.
Petrified.
“H-H…Hannie—” Changbin hasn’t quite regained composure yet, as evidenced by yet another coughing fit, but he’s getting there. Probably. He’s no longer clutching the countertop for support anymore at least. “H-How did he…like, did he say anything…or ask you about Why you picked there of all places…a literal couples spot to take him, or—??”
“No,” Minho responds. Careful, forthright. “No, he didn’t and. Why the hell would he, Binnie, he doesn’t—”
“He can not be this dumb. Like, is he, he’s not— actually, hold up, no. He might just be…oh my god. No, because— I love him like my brother from another mother but— he is that oblivious, isn’t he? Holy cra—”
“—Bin.” Chan sounds…intense. When Minho glances at him – trying to swallow back the anxious bubbling bile in his dry throat – he sees Chan frowning. Uh-oh. “Put that on pause for a sec, please? Minho was trying to say something before you interrupted. Let him talk…”
Talk about what?
More importantly, how did he end up in this situation in the first place?
(Alright.
Okay, so—
Backtrack—)
Right, so…
It started because Minho got asked what he did on his day off yesterday by Changbin (who happened to be stopping in the kitchen at the same time as Minho) and Chan (who had been passing by the kitchen on his way back in after a post-gym shower when he heard what Minho had said to Changbin).
Then, like a horrible game of telephone…
It’s devolved into this.
Whatever this is.
“Look,” Minho huffs, “I didn’t expect this…impromptu interrogation on a Sunday morning. What I was saying before was—”
“About Hannie—”
“ Changbin.”
“Jisung…” Minho, clenched fists at his side and downcast gaze, hates that he feels guilty about this. About what’s normal for him and Jisung, who expresses every other month how much he loves spending time with Minho. “The only thing he said at all about Namsan Tower was that it was his first time going there…and that he was grateful we got to go there for the first time together.”
Chan’s shoulders droop in an instant.
Now he’s—
Grinning?
Oh, no…
“...Minho-yahhhh~” The possibility of Bang Christopher Chan turning on the aegyo when there are no cameras around…is never zero. “Listen to you~ All grown up ’n livin’ your Best Life with your not-boyfriend~ You like that he’s happy about spending the day with you, aren’tcha? If he’s happy, you’re happy…wherever he goes, you go…ohhhh, so adorwable…so…cozy…and domestic~”
Or, worse, the possibility of Chan slumping over him and attempting to playfully smother him with cuddles and cheek smooches—
“Shut. Up. Stop calling me— I’m not— Ugh, Cha— h-hyung, can you stop squishi—iiNG ME— SERIOUSLY, BIN-AH…?!”
This isn’t the first time – and, Minho knows, certainly won’t be the last time – that Chan and Changbin forget how much broader and heavier they are compared to him.
This also isn’t the first time – or last – that Chan has been another sounding board re: his feelings for Jisung.
It’s a first, purely and simply, for Changbin to join in on the well-intentioned teasing.
And though Minho doesn’t hate it the way he claims to, it’s…
“Seriously? Genuinely, I’m…super happy you went there with him.” Chan sparkles, so earnest that Minho can’t find the urge to fight him anymore. Not at the current moment. “Sounds like you had a nice date yesterday.”
“Well…a ‘date’ by Minsung standards, anyway.” Changbin quips, lifting his fingers to motion in the air. “Calling it here: you’ll be going on Actual Dates as a couple within the year…!”
“Highly unlikely,” grouses Minho, folding his arms and looking askant while Chan chimes in with a lively, “You should take him back to Namsan Tower once you make it official~”
He can’t stand their unending optimism.
Almost as much as he can’t stand how much his traitorous little heart skips a beat at the thought.
The funny thing – possibly the funniest thing – about being Jisung’s number one choice for outings to places is that he doesn’t even pick where they go half the time.
Half the time…
Half the time, Jisung is the one who drags him out for quality time.
“You can tell me if you don’t feel like going out, though?” Jisung used to say this often in the early days of their acquaintanceship. Especially if Minho didn’t seem enthusiastic enough about where JIsung wanted to go. Especially when Minho was having a rough day or week and Jisung could sense it before Minho even told him as much. “It’s not a big deal if you change your mind last-minute or while we’re out, even.”
The kindest souls are the ones who don’t know how to be kind to themselves.
You should be just as kind to yourself, give yourself that kind of grace when you need it.
It hurts, knowing that you don’t treat yourself the way you treat the people around you…
“It’s okay if you do. ’Cause…it’s you. My best friend. My Minho-hyung’s word equals law.”
You put so much trust and faith in me.
Constantly.
The way you talk about me is—
Calling me hyung from the get-go, calling me a best friend and a confidant, but —
I wonder if you’d trust me if you knew I wanted more.
More than friendship.
More than this.
“’Cause…nothing worth doing s’worth it if your heart’s not in it. That applies to fun stuff, too, ya know. We already live the life we do, being idols, and— yeah…”
Even if we weren’t idols, I wonder if I’d have enough guts to…
No.
No way.
Who am I kidding?
It’s taken ’til now for me to come to terms with it…
“…Hyung? Are…you okay? That’s your thinking face and. It doesn’t look like you’re thinkin’ about anything…fun…”
If I ruined our friendship by being selfish…
Minho blinks fast.
Jisung blinks back at him, wide wondering beautiful gaze impossible to ignore.
I’d never forgive myself.
The winding vines of thought that took hold of his mind retreat, replaced by—
He’d never forgive me, either.
“Han-ah. Jagi. Random question: have you been to Namsan Tower before?”
(The thought of losing you is worse than anything I could ever lose by lying to myself.
Better it’s me that dies a little inside every time you call us friends and platonic soulmates than to have you hate me.
Better that we stay like this than not being able to be close like this anymore…
Or, worse, drift apart completely.)
“—It’s like you have to be…I dunno…the biggest friggen’ martyr or somethin’...”
Later that day, practically evening time, that was when Changbin called Minho on the phone while he was out grabbing some things from the nearby convenience store.
“This post is calling me out and I don’t like it.” Minho would roll his eyes if he weren’t in public, mask up as far as it can go without being outright surreptitious, voice dropped to a stage whisper. “Who, what, and why’re you accusing me of—?”
“For the record? Channie— He didn’t tell me a damn thing. I figured it out because, one: I’ve got eyes, two: Hannie’s worse than you with the lovesick expressions, and three: I’ve got eyes.”
Minho wants so badly to shake Seo Changbin until he rattles like one of those capsule toys you get out of a coin machine.
Minho wants so badly to tell Changbin he’s wrong, that he’s projecting, that anything he thinks he sees happening with Jisung and Minho…isn’t.
But…
For some reason, it’s…
“Listen. You want to kiss Hannie so badly it makes you look stupid? Fine, go right ahead. Be our guest… it’s your right, your prerogative, as a human being, I guess. But don’t try and tell any of us we’re stupid for wanting to see you and him happy because we care about you like family and—
“Changbin-ah.” Minho gives them both several moments’ pause, waiting until he hears Changbin breathing even out on the other end of the receiver and about ten seconds longer before he heads to the registers to pay and says, “I do want that, I’m not denying that, but. He can’t— we can’t. I can’t, not when there’s a real possibility that everything could change. He could reject me. It’ll affect all of us in turn if he does, and…”
“...Hyung.” The disapproval is palpable. Minho hasn’t heard Changbin call him that since the day they found out they were only a year apart and they agreed, no hesitation, that their unconventional group would be fine if they didn’t adhere to strict formal speech rules with each other all day every day. “You...You know that’s…that’s not—”
Minho doesn’t.
He doesn’t know.
How to be brave and confess how he feels, directly, to who he feels that way towards.
How to handle these burgeoning feelings and not let it affect the career path he’s chosen.
He doesn’t know how he’ll cope with being rejected when, just like Changbin described, the care Jisung has for him is like family, nothing like the shadowed depths of how he feels for Jisung, and—
“Let’s agree to disagree,” Minho sighs before ending the call so he can get his mobile wallet ready, “and stop talking about things we both know we can’t change.”