coincidental | minsung

10

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Soft morning light wakes Jisung up first, and he's eternally grateful for this. 

It means he can peel himself off of Minho before the older one wakes up. It's Jisung's most embarrassing sleep habit; something about his subconscious mind drives him to curl and wrap around the duvet, a pillow, anyone else in the vicinity. 

Carefully, quietly, without even breathing, Jisung is able to pull his hand back from where it had been draped over Minho's chest. He unwraps his legs from where they were tangled around Minho's. The movement causes Minho's t-shirt to rise slightly, reveals toned, autumn-shaded skin, and Jisung does his best to hold in a gasp. 

His mission is successful. He manages to sneak out of the room without waking Minho. He scoops up his clothes, still stained with the remnants of last night's mistakes, and heads downstairs with his head bowed, ever shameful. 

"Hey, Jisung," comes a voice from downstairs as he creeps down the staircase. "That you?" 

Jisung was hoping he'd be able to grab Changbin and flee without anyone seeing, but this plan is spoiled by Felix. How does someone who was so wrecked the night before still look so fresh the morning after? 

Blonde hair bounces in waves around a smiling face as Felix searches Jisung's expression. The smile becomes sympathetic as Felix takes in Jisung's hangover. His voice drops quieter when he speaks again, and Jisung's pounding headache is grateful for that. 

"Just in time. Changbin was gonna come wake you, there's a taxi outside waiting for you both." A pause in his sentences. "Probably for the best that you get out of here before Hyunjin finds you."

Jisung swears internally, but it's written all over his face. Shit. Hyunjin had looked seriously freaked out about the sick. 

"He'll get over it," reassured Felix with a laugh. "C'mon, your shoes are by the door. Let's go."

And so Jisung found himself silent in the car ride home. His head was spinning and the internal monologue that usually kept him company was out of control.

Changbin had been reassuring, too, pityingly so when Jisung clambered into the car next to him. He knew better than to offer advice, or ask questions, and instead had patted Jisung's head and then pulled it so Jisung could rest on his shoulder. 

The embarrassment was almost the worst feeling in the world. But even worse, the question that he couldn't seem to escape; why couldn't Jisung have stayed there, with Minho?

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The question would be answered only a couple of days later. It had taken almost that long for Jisung to overcome the hangover. Naturally, Chan and Changbin were sensitive at first, then angry, then patronizing, then overly-protective. 

Jisung had to beg for them to let him out of the flat so he could attend his dance class. The older boys were terrified he was going to run straight to the nearest bar and drown his sorrows.

Chan was adamant that he would be waiting for Jisung outside of the dance class after it ended. Turns out, this was a blessing in disguise. 

Jisung's eyes made a beeline for the front of the room as he walked into the studio. His fingers were clutched tightly around the string handle of a paper gift bag. Nothing fancy; Minho's clothes that he had worn when he escaped the morning after the party, washed and neatly pressed. Jisung didn't know why, but he had spritzed his own cologne over the bag. It felt pathetic but he wanted Minho to recognise him like Jisung did Minho.