coincidental | minsung

09

͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Only half an hour ago, Jisung had been stood with a funny looking puddle just in front of him, and he was wondering who had been sick when he felt the stinging burn in the back of his throat. He wished that the ground would open and swallow him, and his pile of vomit, into the abyss. 

Changbin, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Felix, and Jeongin were staring at him, aghast. There were varying degrees of dropped jaws amongst them, but Hyunjin's was the worst. Like a snake about to swallow a mouse whole - it was a concern that his chin didn't jut backwards and bruise his neck. 

Minho, on the other hand, seemed unsurprised. He was leaning back on the couch with one eyebrow slightly raised. He glanced at Hyunjin momentarily before standing up. 

"C'mon," he said to Jisung simply. "Upstairs."

Jisung was in a daze. He let Minho take him gently by the elbow and lead him up an unfamiliar staircase. If he had been sober enough to think rationally, he would've been excited about discovering new parts of their house as though he was unlocking parts of a map on a game. Instead, he just followed. Just tried to breathe, tried to move. 

"Minho hyung," called a voice from behind them. "It's okay, I've got him."

When Minho paused, Jisung was half-expecting him to put up a fight. To resume control. But instead he turned to face Changbin and handed the younger boy over. 

Jisung was only just aware of fluorescent lighting. Cold water being splashed on his face, his now bare feet wiped roughly with dampened toilet paper, a hand patting at the few bits of spit and sick that had dribbled down onto his t-shirt. 

"Hyung," he mumbled,  "Hyung, wan go home..."

Changbin smiled at him sympathetically. He hated to admit how much of a soft spot he had for Jisung, the way that something in the back of his mind had a desperate need to look after him. He was one of the few people who had seen through his egomaniac façade. Seen him broken.

"We'll go home in the morning," Changbin reassured, voice sweet. "You can't walk like this and I don't fancy carrying you home."

Maternal instinct had sobered Changbin up. Whilst Minho had propelled Jisung up the stairs, Changbin had checked in with Hyunjin; he and Jisung would sleep on the couches in the living room (post-sick clean-up) and leave the next morning. It wasn't unheard of at parties like Hyunjin's. 

Jisung didn't have any fight left in himself to protest with, and simply bleated an affirmation. He hung his head low and let Changbin delicately wipe off the last bits of vomit. 

Neither realised Minho had appeared outside of the door. When they went to leave the bathroom, Changbin jumped, but Jisung just looked up at the raven-haired boy solemnly. Minho met his eyes; did he look concerned? Or was Jisung still that drunk?

Minho, in actuality, was battling a very foreign urge. His hand had almost moved in impulse to lift up, to gently thumb away the tearstain streaks that lingered under Jisung's eyes. Changbin hadn't noticed them, and it seemed like Jisung hadn't either. 

He restrained himself. Instead he nodded towards a bedroom, ushering Changbin and Jisung towards it. 

"Hyunjin said take the couch," Minho explained, "but I think Jisung needs a bed. And to not be near the smell of... y'know." 

Jisung barely even noticed the room he was in when Changbin and Minho worked together to coax him into it. He hadn't noticed pressed bedsheets, notepads angled neatly against the corner of a desk, or the small row of fabric bundles by the wardrobe. He had, however, noticed the plants.