Han Jisung, a struggling music producer, is completely smitten by a handsome, cold bar back by the name of Lee Minho. He hates the way Minho makes him feel, and after learning about Minho's past, Jisung wants to hate him even more, but can't help ho...
There is no content warnings for this chapter xx Enjoy the finale!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
┗━━━━━━◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷ ━━━━━━┛
"Are you nervous?" Jisung asks quietly.
"A little." Minho breathes heavily, biting his tongue, fixing his hair in front of the bathroom mirror. Jisung was sitting on the counter next to him, head slightly tilted, watching the elder fondly. "It's just lunch with my dad, but. . . y'know. I haven't really sat down with the guy without his wife present."
"So it's really one on one, then?" Jisung asks, watching Minho check himself over in the mirror still.
"Yeah. It's just the two of us." Minho turns to look at him, searching the younger's gaze for any cast of hope or strength that he can pull from him. "I really wish I could take you with me."
"I know you do, jagi. It's for the best, though. I don't want him to feel outnumbered." Jisung says softly, watching Minho move towards his spot on the counter, planting himself between Jisung's thighs. Jisung moves his arms to settle on Minho's shoulders, arms loosely hanging there, fingers just barely toying with the edge of Minho's hairline.
"I'm gonna come home the minute we're done talking." Minho assures, almost as if Jisung would doubt that he wouldn't come home in the first place.
"I know." Jisung raises his brow, looking at Minho curiously. "I didn't think that you wouldn't."
"I'm just making it clear that no matter what happens, I'm coming back here." Minho half-smiles, eyes still searching for anything to cling on to within Jisung's russet hues.
"I will be waiting for you to come back, okay?" Jisung smiles at him sweetly, trying to coax any anxiety lingering within the elder's chest to dissipate. Minho smiles back at him with a slight nod, gaze shooting downwards for a moment in avoidance. Jisung knew that this was hard for him, seeing the clear pain and resentment stowed within his expression easily without even having to search for it.
Minho wasn't usually so phased by his emotions, hiding them well beneath an icy exterior that most patrons and random people are greeted by, leaving only Jisung and Chris to truly see his heart for what it was. He was just as affected as everyone else was, if not more, feeling intensely at times and unable to portrait it in words.
Jisung waits patiently, as he always did, watching the elder compose himself and his thoughts idly. This was a huge step of progress, one that Minho had been avoiding for the better part of ten years. Jisung was proud of him for trying, that was all he could hope for in the end.
"I'm sorry, I'm not usually so. . . quiet." Minho clears his throat, gaze lifting again. "This is new for me."
"There's a lot of emotions behind this meeting." Jisung affirms, trying to empathize the best he could. "You don't have to mask it all anymore."
