MY MARTIAN. minsung

epilogue

Minho was trying to sleep.

He really was.

But annoying noises kept coming from the other room. Plus the whole place was freezing cold.

With a sigh, he sat up straight and glanced around. Even through his attempted sleep induced bleariness, he could still make out the glowing numbers on the digital clock against the far wall.

Minho swung his legs out from underneath the covers, patience running very thin.

It was nearly four o'clock in the morning, what the heck could Jisung even be doing at that time?

He marched down the hallway and into the livingroom, pout on his face and arms folded, preparing to reprimand his exboyfriend-friend-thing-that-just-came-back-from-the-dead-and-lives-in-his-livingroom for keeping him up all night.

However, as soon as he rounded the corner to enter said livingroom, his mouth fell open. He still hadn't gotten used to seeing Jisung around the house, despite the fact that he'd been back for over a week. It probably didn't help that Jisung's hair was a vibrant new color due to his excursion earlier with Chan and Changbin to get it done. Or that it was illuminated by his open laptop. Or that bags of junk food he didn't have access to while he was up in space for over two years surrounded him and his blanket cocoon. Cans of Mountain Dew were lined up on the edge of the coffee table, and Jisung took a sip from one as he typed away on the laptop.

Minho tried to recover from his slight shock quickly. Jisung hadn't seen him yet- he had the advantage here. Just as he was trying to work out what his best plan of attack would be, a soft giggle came from Jisung. Call Minho whipped, but his eyes were drawn right back to this magnificent human being on his livingroom couch that he had fallen in love with.

Who just so happened to have the most adorable giggle ever.

To be honest, Minho had no idea what he was doing.

He and Jisung hadn't talked once about their past relationship since he'd gotten back. Jisung did insist on taking the couch, but whenever he had a nightmare or couldn't sleep, he would crawl in with Minho- but neither would talk about it the next morning.

So what were they?

Minho was completely fine without labels, but he just wished he knew what Jisung thought of him. He hated to be used, and he had no idea if Jisung even liked him still. Maybe he was just using Minho's dumb feelings like he had before.

Thoughts getting the better of him, Minho turned to leave. A soft voice called out to him from the couch.

“Where are you going?”

Minho's mouth fell open and he froze in his spot. Without even turning back around, he could tell that Jisung was smirking. A soft thud sounded, signalling that the laptop had been set aside.

“Yknow, when you're by yourself for almost an entire year, you get to know what's real silence, and when someone is there.” His voice cracked at the end, and Minho whirled around.

“I'm fine, don't worry, you don't have to take me over to another psychiatrist- I'm fine.”

Jisung had been assigned to mandatory therapy. Being alone for that long could do things to the mind that they couldn't even know yet. He seemed fine, but was going on within the confines of his mind was something only he could know.

Taking a deep breath, Minho walked over to where Jisung was, determination in his steps. When he got there, he held out his arms.

For a second, some kind of emotion flickered behind Jisung's eyes.