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Jisung doesn’t think it’s weird that he has never really longed for anyone. That he has never had any feelings for another person that didn’t stop at friendship. He’s had certain people that he followed around, curious about them, wanting to learn. That usually lasted until they did something he couldn’t move past and ruined his chances at ever feeling more for another person.
But lately, Jisung can admit that he is feeling way too much, way too many things. That the fact that he hasn’t found something to hate about him scares him and excites him all the same.
It’s a feeling he realized was desire.
Jisung felt desire and absolute devotion.
Minho, a name he’s come to learn over the past few weeks, seems to be everything Jisung has ever wanted and would ever want. His smile, his pretty hands as they work to prepare drinks, his sharp eyes, the way they roll at sleazy patrons who test their luck at taking him home.
Minho would never go home with them. He’d never let such scum touch him.
He loves his hair, the way its dark color compliments his skin tone and brings out the rosiness of his cheeks and pretty lips. All Jisung wants to do is run his fingers through the locks and latch on forever.
Jisung has been coming to club Fauna and Flora for around three months now, always sitting at the end of the bar. He’s not too keen on going out, especially to a place with so many people. He only ever came here for his friend’s birthday in the first place, and Chan literally had to drag him out and use the ‘but it’s my birthday’ card.
That night was the first night he ever laid eyes on Minho. Jisung was immediately enamored. He knew he had to have him. He needed him.
He had to make sure no one would ever get to touch him ever again, unless that someone was Jisung.
If Jisung cared at all, his obsession would be bordering on concerning. Minho isn’t the first person he’s pursued, for lack of better terms, but he is the first person who’s been able to maintain his attention for so long.
He hasn’t really had a conversation with the dark haired man, but he’s not embarrassed to admit that he did his own sort of internet sleuthing and found Minho’s social media. He’s been checking his page basically every day, chuckling at his silly cat videos and drooling over casual selfies. He might have also found the cafe Minho likes to frequent in his free time and passed by while Minho was there. He just wanted to see what the other was up to, nothing weird!
He’s only ever exchanged words with Minho when he’s ordering a drink.
Only one drink. Every time.
Jisung doesn’t like to drink. He doesn’t like much of anything except music and painting– and Minho now. He’d gladly sip on whiskey all night if it meant he got to watch Minho, to let himself be entranced by the flex of his muscles whenever he has to use the shaker to mix a drink.
The man does spare the occasional glance toward Jisung, sparkly eyes and a small smile that Jisung has come to realize are reserved only for him. He wonders if Minho knows what that simple gesture does to him. That a mere look in his direction is enough to make Jisung go absolutely feral.
He has to have him.
As he takes another sip from his whiskey and his face scrunches at the terrible taste, he sees a man approach the bar, eyes locked on Minho. He orders a drink, something as obnoxious as the smug smile carved onto his thin, chapped lips.
Jisung hates this guy.
“Will tonight be my lucky night?” He’s close enough to make out the words.
This man isn’t anyone new. Jisung has seen him before, heard him before. He constantly tries to flirt with Minho, always asking him at what time he gets off. As if Minho would ever give him the time of day-
“I actually get off in ten. Meet me out back?” Minho smiles, a smile that cuts directly through Jisung’s heart.
His jaw went slack, eyes widening as his brain tried to process what just happened. He quickly closes his mouth when Minho’s eyes quickly look in his direction, but he doesn’t look away. He wants Minho to see that he noticed, and he thinks Minho wanted him to notice.
There’s no way his Minho just accepted this douche’s advances. That his precious angel just said yes to going home with this thing, to allowing this asshole to touch his sacred body, to mark it up, to do things to him only Jisung should be allowed to do.
Jisung was furious. Not at Minho, Minho could do no wrong. He was furious at the situation, at the fact that this poor excuse of a human kept approaching Minho until he finally broke him.
He sees the guy nod, a gross and throaty laugh escaping him as he takes his drink and walks away. Jisung swears Minho’s smile is replaced with a look of disgust, of anger, one that is quickly replaced by a more neutral one. One that is unreadable to everyone, even Jisung.
Jisung wasn’t going to allow this. He couldn’t. He’d follow them if he had to. He already knew where Minho lived, he could easily protect him while maintaining enough distance to not get caught. He couldn’t let Minho ruin himself like this, he couldn’t let him give himself to someone who isn’t worthy. He couldn’t be tarnished by such filth.
Ten minutes pass by quicker than Jisung would like, and he sees Minho begin to say his goodbyes to his coworkers. He spares one last glance at Jisung, a longer strand of hair covering his eye slightly, and smiles. Jisung smiles back, small but warm. Minho always smiled at him before leaving, somehow knowing Jisung needed to be graced by his beauty one last time.
Jisung watches as he walks away, hips swaying in a way that is absolutely entrancing, almost as if he’s doing it on purpose so that Jisung’s eyes stay glued on him and only him.
He feels the jealousy bubble inside him once more when he notices the man is also leaving, heading out the front door of the club in order to meet up with Minho in the back.
Jisung hates this guy.
He then decides to take action, abandoning his almost empty glass of whiskey and following closely behind the man through the horde of sweaty bodies. He doesn’t particularly enjoy being touched by so many people, but he can’t lose the man, and if he went around the crowd he surely would.
Once he makes it outside, he decides to– very casually– lean against the brick wall next to the front doors of the club. The wall is close enough to the alleyway that it allows him to turn his head slightly to the left and spot Minho with the wretched animal he invited back home with him.
Jisung could throw up at the sight of Minho giggling at whatever the man mumbled. He was absolutely shocked that Minho would entertain such dirt. Was Minho that desperate for a connection? Did he not notice how devoted Jisung was to him? How, with a snap of his pretty fingers, Jisung would burn the world down for him? Jisung curses at himself for taking so long to take initiative, to show Minho just how much he really wants him.
He huffs out a breath of frustration and anger. If his life were a cartoon, he’d be a bull zoned in on a red piece of cloth.
The pair’s footsteps get closer to Jisung, two bodies walking past him and toward the direction of Minho’s apartment building. As they pass by, Jisung’s eyes immediately land on Minho. On his own sharp eyes which seem to be beckoning Jisung, inviting him to break this situation up before it could progress any further.
But as quick as the invitation appears, it’s snatched away by the man wrapping his arm around Minho’s waist.
Jisung is a bull.
All he sees is red.
He, however, can also be a very collected person. He knows not to cause a scene, knows to lay low until it’s time to pounce.
He watches as Minho and the man walk away further and further, until they get lost in the blur of bodies who are either too drunk or too sober to be walking around this time of night.
Jisung begins his walk toward Minho’s apartment, a route that he’s taken many times over the past few months.
He’s not a creep, he’s just protective. It’s not like Jisung has broken into Minho’s apartment, that’d be a little too much. He has, however, made sure Minho makes it inside safely. Made sure Minho can snuggle up with his cats and watch some anime that Jisung has also watched because he and Minho are just meant to be. Jisung has even been working up the courage to talk to the other, to finally ask him out, but then this happened and his plan was ruined. Who knows, tonight could’ve been the night he finally did it.
Minho is also not very secretive. He posts a lot on social media, random pictures at home of his three cats and meals he prepares. Jisung basically knows the entire layout of his apartment from just pictures. Not only that, but Minho sucks at closing his blinds. Jisung sometimes– many times– finds himself on the street across from Minho's, looking up at his third floor window while making sure no one else is. He should really talk to Minho about how dangerous that is, there are real creeps in the world.
He finally makes it to Minho’s apartment building, the streets and sidewalks surrounding it barren of anyone walking or driving. If anyone is out this late, it’s because they want to go to a club, a bar, or a convenience store, and those were further back by Fauna and Flora. This just makes Jisung even more nervous, there was no crowd to protect Minho. No one to notice if the man did something to him.
Jisung’s nerves were heightened as he made his way into the apartment complex. The security guard at the front desk notices him and nods, already knowing Jisung from the countless times he’s dropped Minho off.
No, Minho doesn’t know Jisung has dropped him off, but that doesn’t bother Jisung. His only priority is Minho’s safety, especially when he has to walk home in the darkness after work.
Honestly, this place probably needs better security. All Jisung had to say was that he was visiting his friend on the third floor and he was let through. Minho should not be living somewhere so dangerous.
He steps into the elevator and presses the number three, gaze locked on the doors as they close and eventually open to reveal the hallway Minho’s apartment is in. Jisung sticks his hands in his pockets, huffing as he walks toward Minho’s door.
He reaches it, apartment 307.
But he’s stuck.
He doesn’t know what he should do. He’d knock, but what if he got the wrong message and Minho didn’t want him following him anywhere? What if Minho was just simply a nice guy that smiled at Jisung and was utterly clueless of the dangers around him? What if he actually liked the asshole he brought home with him tonight?
Jisung’s train of thought is interrupted by a thump in Minho’s apartment.
His eyes widen, fist going up to knock on the door, but it cracks open instead. He didn’t notice that it wasn’t closed completely.
Was this on purpose? Did Minho know he’d come to rescue him?
Jisung fully opens the door, expecting to see the man forcing himself onto Minho, and preparing himself to beat his ass after he pulls him off.
But, that’s not the scene in front of him.
His eyes widened once again, heartbeat picking up its pace. He swears there’s a ringing in his ears, was an alarm going off? Why was it so fucking loud?
Before Jisung could think, he fully steps into the apartment and shuts the door behind him, body facing the door as he breathes in and out slowly.
There was no man forcing himself onto Minho, not at all.
Instead, there was blood. Blood and a body.
And his angel, holding a knife.
He slowly turns back to face the dark haired man, to face the unexpected scene in front of him. Jisung thinks he must be stupid. His infatuation has completely taken over his fight or flight response, short circuiting it into a stay and possibly get murdered response instead.
“Um-” Jisung tries, but is immediately interrupted.
“You came,” the first words Minho has spoken to him. In a different context, maybe he’d find them funny.
His voice was pretty. Sure, Jisung had heard it before in the club, but without all the extra noise pollution, he could appreciate how soft it was. How pure.
The other was standing in the middle of his living room, hovering over the body of the man he had brought home. There was blood staining his hands, blood staining his shirt, his pants, even his pretty face. His eyes looked calm, his expression too. There was no sense of panic from being caught, no sense of panic from having killed someone else. Just calm, and if Jisung’s vision wasn’t hazy, maybe he would be able to spot the small smile on his lips.
Jisung blinks and swallows, “Yeah, I did.” His eyes don’t leave the other. He doesn’t want to look down at the pool of blood that surrounds the body on the floor. No, he’d rather look at Minho. “What… what happened?” He stutters, voice almost a whisper.
Minho looks at him with such innocence that Jisung feels like he’s imagining the corpse on the floor, “Self defense.” He shrugs.
“Oh,” Jisung breathes out loudly.
Self defense. Of course, that makes sense. He knew the guy was a fucking creep. He probably tried attacking Minho, maybe even tried taking advantage of him. Jisung suddenly feels angry, eyebrows furrowed as his eyes finally land on the man’s body.
He scrunches his nose, even in death he looked like an asshole.
Jisung slightly flinches as he hears a clang on the floor, eyes shooting back toward Minho. He had dropped the knife on the floor and was slowly making his way to where Jisung still stood by the front door.
It's as if Jisung is the prey and Minho is the predator, the other staring directly into his eyes as he approaches him. His breathing is calm, his movements are fluid, and if he wasn’t covered in blood Jisung would never believe that he had just killed someone.
Jisung has never felt like prey before, he finds it thrilling.
When Minho finally reaches Jisung, he just stands in front of him. Jisung can see his eyes roaming over his face, as if he’s trying to read his reaction and what he thought about what he just walked into.
“Are you scared?” Minho asks, voice soft and low, a tentative hand coming up to touch Jisung’s cheek.
Jisung’s eyes widen slightly, his head shaking as he feels the wetness from Minho’s hand rubbing off on his cheek. He doesn’t flinch, “No, it was self defense, right?”
Minho hums, a small smirk etching itself onto his pretty plump lips. He brings his hand back down and turns to look at the man’s dead body. Jisung sees his head tilt to the side, almost as if he doesn’t know how the corpse got there.
Jisung lets out another deep breath as he takes in the scene in front of him, as he takes in Minho’s attitude and his lack of panic. “Right?”
This makes Minho face Jisung again, his face is still calm. His whole entire demeanor is still calm.
He sighs, “I can’t lie to you, Jisungie. I feel guilty that I already did.” Minho pouts, his top lip covering his bottom one as his cheeks puff out. Jisung doesn’t fully process his words or the fact that Minho knows his name, he can’t help but just stare at how tragically adorable the man in front of him is. “You know that this asshole has been bothering me for weeks now, right?” He asks and Jisung nods, eyes still slightly wide but never leaving Minho’s own. “Of course you do, you know a lot about me,” He smiles. “Well, he wasn’t stopping, and I was so over it. You get it? He just didn’t stop bothering me so I decided to make him stop bothering me.”
And Jisung wasn’t surprised. Well he was, but he wasn’t surprised that it wasn’t actually self defense. Of course this shit wasn’t self defense. He believed whatever Minho told him, he didn’t want to question him, but now that he told him the truth Jisung wasn’t fucking surprised at all. He was just shocked that Minho was capable of something like this.
“So, you just killed him?” Jisung’s voice was shaky, he wasn’t scared of Minho, but he was a bit nervous.
He also couldn’t process how not put off he was right now.
Minho nods as if he were a child getting reprimanded, “You get it, right? You’re just like me.”
Jisung’s eyes widened at this, “Huh? I’ve never killed anyone. Ever.”
His head is shaking. Sure, Jisung can get a little bit too attached to people he’s never even spoken to, Minho being the most perfect example of that. Maybe he was just too passionate, but he doesn’t think of that as a bad thing. It’s not like his feelings have ever led to him killing anyone.
Yet, now that he thinks about it, looking into Minho’s pretty eyes as they look right back at him, maybe he would kill someone for Minho.
“I know that you’re sick too, Jisungie. I know you’ve been stalking me for over three months, I’ve been keeping count. I know you follow me home, look through my window, go to Fauna and Flora specifically to see me,” Minho breathes out, a soft expression taking over his features. He searches for Jisung’s hand with his own bloody one, intertwining their fingers once he finds it. “I think it’s sweet, actually. I think you’re sweet and I like how devoted you are. I want to be just as devoted to you as you are to me.”
Minho’s smile was sugary, just like honey. Jisung felt like he was drowning in it, like the viscous liquid was entrapping him and leaving him with no choice but to let it flow into his lungs.
This is everything Jisung wanted, this is everything he’d ever hoped for. A connection, someone who sees him and his devotion and doesn’t run away from it, but rather appreciates it. Wants it.
“You do?” His voice still comes out soft and unsure, but his thumb begins rubbing soothing motions on the side of Minho’s hand, uncaring for the blood that makes his grip slippery. His eyes map out the constellations in Minho’s own and Jisung can’t believe that his eyes sparkle, how do eyes even sparkle?
Minho breaks out into a grin, a slight blush coloring his cheeks, and he giggles, “Yes, Jisungie. I’ve never felt so appreciated until you. Men and women usually just flirt with me in an attempt to fuck me, they bat their lashes and flash their ugly teeth and expect me to swoon over a few words. Even the ones that have wanted relationships with me have never been enough, they were all boring and never worth my time.” He takes a quick pause to bring the hand that isn’t holding Jisung’s to wrap about his nape, that same wetness sending chills down Jisung’s body. “But you’re so different. You appreciate me from afar, always showing me your pretty smile and your sweet adoration quietly. It makes me want you so bad. Ever since that first night you came to Fauna and Flora, that time with your friend. I remember he yelled your name from the bar while you were dancing, asking you what drink you wanted. I looked in the direction he was yelling, and then I saw you. You were stunning. I knew you were special. I saw it in your eyes. They reminded me of my own.”
Jisung feels like he can’t breathe. He can’t believe Minho is handing him his heart right now, softly smiling and pleading for Jisung not to drop it. He wouldn’t, he would never. His own free hand goes up to wrap around Minho’s waist, grip tightening as he hears a pretty gasp escape the other’s lips. “I never knew… I didn’t know you had noticed me, not like how I’ve noticed you. You’re enrapturing, Minho. All-encompassing, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I first laid eyes on you.” Their eyes were still focused on each other’s, a few blinks being the only cause of their break in eye contact. Jisung liked the way Minho blinked, softly, and the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks when he did. He reminded Jisung of a cat, slowly blinking when looking at someone they trust. Jisung hoped he was that someone for Minho. “I know we don’t know each other well, I’m not crazy, but I feel like this was meant to happen. That we were destined to meet. I feel like I’ve been missing you my entire life.”
Minho was looking at Jisung with so much feeling, so much of something that Jisung understood all too well. Jisung wasn’t religious, but he thanked whatever god made tonight happen. He even thanked that stupid asshole that had to lose his life.
He and Minho were finally brought together. They were finally given a chance that had never been given to them before, be it by fate or something sinister.
Minho smiles, cute bunny teeth peeking through, “Can I kiss you?”
Jisung’s eyes widen, but he nods. Of course he nods.
He breathes in deeply as Minho leans in, forehead resting on Jisung’s as his nose nudges Jisung’s own. Minho’s eyes are still looking into his, but then they slowly begin to travel down to Jisung’s lips. Minho squeezes his nape when he finally leans in, his pretty lips tasting even better than Jisung had ever imagined. He doesn’t understand how the taste of Minho's lips are sweet enough to cancel out the metallic taste of the blood that had splattered onto his face, but he was obsessed. Not like he wasn’t before, but now he doesn’t think he can ever leave Minho alone. Minho is his now. Minho is his forever. Jisung deepens the kiss, tongue gliding over Minho’s soft bottom lip. Minho parts his mouth with a soft moan, Jisung’s tongue immediately exploring his mouth as Minho’s grip on Jisung’s nape brings them both impossibly closer. Jisung brings their bodies together by pulling Minho’s hips toward him, hand slipping from his hip to the back pocket of his jeans. Minho whines against his lips as Jisung squeezes his ass, and Jisung swears he wouldn’t mind spending every single second of day listening to Minho’s pretty noises.
Minho pulls away slowly, as if he doesn’t want to stop touching Jisung’s lips. Jisung opens his eyes in time for Minho to do the same. His eyes are hooded and hazy, his lips red and a bit swollen and fucking delicious, blood and spit smeared on them like a piece of art. Jisung smirks as he notices the pink flush on his face and the red tips of his ears.
Jisung was absolutely obsessed.
“You’re so pretty,” Minho whispers, a small smirk taking over his own lips.
Jisung scoffs, “Look who’s talking. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, and not to be an absolute cornball right now, but I don’t think I’ll ever lay eyes on anyone or anything as beautiful as you.” Jisung feels overcome by emotions, he can’t understand it, “Fuck, Minho, I don’t even know how to handle everything I’m feeling right now. I’ve never felt anything like this.”
Minho’s bottom lips tremble slightly as his eyes begin to glisten with unshed tears, making them sparkle even more, “Me either, Jisungie. I’ve never felt as alive as how I feel right now. I never thought I could feel anything at all, at least not this much.” He smiles,, “And that was very fucking corny, but I kind of loved it.”
“I’m glad, I have way more where that came from,” Jisung grins and winks at Minho, feeling way too light for the situation they are currently in.
Minho giggles and pecks Jisung’s lips quickly.
“Do you wanna shower while I clean this up for you?” Jisung asks, realizing that Minho is extremely bloody.
Jisung is too, but definitely not to Minho’s level.
“What?” Minho softens, his voice small. “You’d clean this up for me?” he asks, motioning behind him with his head.
Jisung nods immediately, “Yes, I’m sure you feel uncomfortable right now, my hand is like soaked in blood from the amount that you have on yours.” Jisung decides to ignore how normal he felt while he said that, how absolutely unaffected by this he really was.
“Oh, um… Ow, actually. It kinda fucking hurts,” Minho’s winces as his face contorts a little from the sudden realization of pain. “I think I cut myself when stabbing that asshole,” his lips form into a pout as he brings his hand up to check.
Jisung gasps as he sees the cuts along Minho’s fingers. They were on every finger but one, right along his flexor tendons. “Oh, baby, you did cut yourself,” now it was Jisung’s turn to pout, his own hand coming up to hold the back of Minho’s softly.
He bites his lip in worry as he looks up at Minho’s expression. He wasn’t expecting the look on Minho’s face. It was so intense, so raw, so fucking alive. Jisung didn’t feel small under his eyes, instead he felt important, he felt wanted.
“Okay, I’ll tend to your wounds,” Jisung says, his lips curling into a smile. “If any of these are really deep I can also stitch them up for you, I have some experience. Be careful next time, okay? You need to take care of your pretty hands.” Next time? Jisung, once again, chooses to ignore the insanity of how normal that sounded coming out of his mouth. “After that, you can take a nice hot bath and I can clean up out here.”
Minho chuckles, “You’re insane. And so sweet and handsome and perfect.” Jisung blushes, smacking Minho on the chest playfully. “I’d appreciate you helping me with the cuts, but we can just clean this up later,” Minho smirks as he leans his face closer to Jisung’s, his breath fanning over his lips. “You should join me in the bath since you are also just a teensy bit covered in blood. We can kiss, and maybe touch a little.”
Jisung giggles and quickly pecks Minho on the lips, not being able to stop himself from doing so. “Min, you have an injured hand!”
Minho laughs as he pulls back, grabbing Jisung’s hand and leading him toward the bathroom, “I have two hands for a reason, baby.”
“You’re crazy,” Jisung grins.
“You love it.”