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sluttywonwoo · 2 years ago

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instead of you [part fifteen] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, angst, mild smut (18+ mdni)

word count: 4.5k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

“I’m not leaving you down here alone,” Jisung insisted.

You could tell that he was starting to get frustrated, but you were too. You didn’t understand why he was so fucking stubborn.

“I’ll be fine!” you hissed.

The rest of the Hans were only ten feet or so away from you and you didn’t want them to hear you arguing with their son.

You were trying to convince Jisung to go to the top of the Tokyo Tower with his family, but he was adamant on staying with you on the ground, knowing you’d be miserable if you had to go up that high.

“I’m an adult, Ji,” you pointed out.

“I know! But we’re in a foreign country, and you don’t speak the language.”

“Neither do you!”

“Yeah, but there’d be two of us! And you’re-” he paused.

“What?”

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say what?” you pressed, playing dumb.

“Come on, you know young women are way more vulnerable than anyone else.”

“Wow, so because I’m a woman, you can’t leave me down here alone?” you scoffed.

Jisung took a deep breath. “You’re twisting my words.”

You knew he was right. It wasn’t safe to be somewhere you weren’t familiar with by yourself, especially if you didn’t know the native language. It was early morning, and there was plenty of daylight, but tourist spots were known for being dangerous regardless.

“I don’t want you to miss out.”

“It’s just another high structure in the middle of a city. The view from the top looks the same from all of them anyway.”

“That’s not true!”

“How would you know? You’ve only ever been to the Eiffel Tower.

“I can stay with her.”

You both jerked your heads over to see Minho standing beside you. You weren’t sure how long he had been there, or how much he had overheard.

“I can stay down here,” he repeated when neither of you responded. “I don’t mind.”

“I don’t want you to miss out either!”

“I won’t be missing out. I’ve been to the Tokyo Tower before,” he explained. “I came here on tour a few years ago.”

You kept forgetting Minho was a famous dancer, not just your best friend’s brother. You thought that being alone with him might be a bad idea, but you also knew it’d be the only way to get Jisung to go up fucking tower.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“I don’t want to leave you again,” Jisung said before his brother could answer.

You suspected he still felt guilty about riding with Felix instead of you on the rollercoaster the day before at Yomiuriland, but you wished he wouldn’t beat himself up over it.

“Babe, you wouldn’t be leaving me! I want you to go with your family.”

He looked at you, then at Minho, then back at you and sighed.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. As long as Minho’s okay being stuck with me.”

“I think you need to reevaluate who’s stuck with who,” Jisung deadpanned.

“Jisung,” you scolded. “He’s doing us a favor.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks, Minho,” your best friend said and then forced a smile.

You pulled Jisung by the shoulders and kissed him once on the lips, ignoring the way Minho looked away uncomfortably. Jisung groaned against your mouth, deepening the kiss. You were a little surprised, but you let it happen. He wrapped his arms around your waist and then finally broke away, still holding you close.

“You act like you’re going off to war,” Minho scoffed.

Jisung ignored him. “Be back in an hour!”

“Take lots of pictures for me!” you called after him, watching as he walked over to join the rest of his family.

“I’ll be the best chaperone ever,” Minho yelled in assurance.

“Chaperone?”

“Yeah, I’m like, making sure you don’t get kidnapped or pickpocketed or whatever.”

You took a step back and looked him up and down, sizing him up. “How tall are you?”

Minho put a hand to his heart in mock offense. “Why must you wound me in this way?”

You smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

“Hey, I’m older than you. That makes me the chaperone.”

“Fine, Mr. Han.”

He scrunched his nose in distaste. “Wait, that’s weird. Don’t call me that.”

“But I thought you were my-”

“Chaperone, I know. But the bit’s dead. You killed it.”

“Good,” you said in satisfaction.

Minho shook his head, chuckling under his breath. You both watched Jisung disappear with the other Hans into the building at the base of the tower. You breathed a sigh of relief once the doors closed behind them. You were happy that you weren’t holding your best friend back from what could be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Just because you didn’t want to experience it in your lifetime didn’t mean he shouldn’t.

You were about to ask Minho what you should do while you wait, but were interrupted before you could.

“Excuse me.”

A girl who looked to be your age had popped up behind the two of you. You could tell she was American from the way she was dressed, not to mention the accent that gave her away.

“Is it possible to get a picture with you?” she asked nervously.

Minho smiled, instantly turning on his charm. You could see it now: what everyone else seemed to see. Maybe you had always been able to see it, but as you watched him interact with his fan it seemed so suddenly evident. He was naturally charismatic, that much was obvious. But to leave it at that would be an understatement.

“Sure,” he answered easily and the girl visibly relaxed. “I just ask that you don’t post it for a few hours because I try to keep my exact location kinda private.”

“Of course! I totally understand.”

“Perfect. Let’s take that photo, then.”

The girl turned to you, acknowledging your presence for the first time. “Would you mind taking the picture?”

You froze, panicking internally. You were unaware that you would also have to interact with this person, though it made sense seeing as you were the only other one there. You weren’t sure how to act in this situation, but Minho gave you a reassuring smile and the slightest of nods from behind the girl.

You grinned awkwardly. “Yeah, I can do that!”

She handed you her phone and went to stand next to Minho. You opened the camera and focused it on them, taking a step back so you could get a better angle. She was pretty, you noticed with a sinking feeling as Minho wrapped his arm around her shoulders and smiled. You snapped a couple of shots and then handed the phone back.

“Let me know if those are okay,” you said hoarsely.

She swiped through the gallery quickly to check them while Minho watched over her shoulder, humming in approval.

“They’re perfect, thank you,” she beamed.

“Of course.”

She turned back to face Minho and stuck out her hand. “I’m Rosalyn, by the way.”

Even her name was pretty.

“Lee Know, but I think you already knew that.”

“I did, yeah. And you are…?”

Rosalyn was looking at you expectantly, wanting you to introduce yourself. Without thinking you shook her hand, even though you knew she didn’t care about you and was only asking to be polite.

“I’m-”

“She’s a friend,” Minho said quickly, coming over to wrap an arm around your shoulders this time.

The girl looked back and forth between you like she was trying to piece your relationship together. Minho cleared his throat politely and pursed his lips, startling the girl out of her thoughts.

“Well, it was really nice to meet you both. Thank you for the picture. I won’t post it until tomorrow.”

“I appreciate that,” Minho said. “It was a pleasure to meet you, as well.”

Rosalyn thanked him again and complimented his work before walking off.

“What the fuck was that?” you whispered once you thought she was out of earshot.

“What do you mean?”

“A friend?”

He raised his arms defensively. “You are a friend!”

“Yeah, but by introducing me as ‘a friend’ it looks suspicious. Why didn’t you just let me introduce myself?”

“I didn’t want her looking you up!”

“How would she find me from just my first name?”

“You’d be surprised at how… dedicated some K-pop fans can be.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well if she mentions anything about you being with a girl in her post there are going to be rumors all over the internet and Jisung is going to be pissed.”

“I know,” Minho sighed. “But it’s better than them finding you.” You weren’t so sure that was true. “I’m sorry,” he continued. “Let me make it up to you by buying you coffee?”

You mulled over the offer, letting him linger in the uncertainty while you thought about your answer.

“Fine,” you answered finally, scowling. “I guess coffee couldn’t hurt.”

Minho grinned, and sighed in relief. “I knew you couldn’t say no to caffeine.”

“Using my weakness against me.” You shook your head in disbelief. “Shameful.”

“I’m not above it.”

“I know.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and searched for a nearby café.

“There’s a place like half a mile from here. Does that sound good?”

“Do we have time?”

Minho lifted his wrist to check his Rolex even though he had his phone in his hand and shrugged.

“It should be fine. We can always run back if we’re short on time.”

“I will not be running.”

“Okay, well if we’re short on time we’ll just be a little late.”

You knew Jisung wouldn’t care as long as you sent him a text.

“Works for me.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

Minho routed walking directions to the café and you both started off in the direction the map was pointing you in, dodging pedestrians moving in the opposite direction.

It took a whole ten minutes for you and Minho to decide on a coffee order because of the overwhelming amount of options presented on the menu. There were so many flavors you wanted to try, but you didn’t want to mix too many into your drink and overpower the coffee entirely.

You finally decided that you would each get one you both wanted to try and share. You ordered an iced drip coffee with caramel syrup and oat milk, and Minho ordered an iced latte with vanilla and oat milk. In all honesty, they were both drinks you would have ordered back home, so you weren’t really trying anything new, but you could use the comfort. Technically, all the brands of the ingredients were Japanese so it wasn’t the same as an American coffee, not entirely.

The barista called your names almost immediately after Minho’s debit card transaction was approved. The little green lights on the machine lit up and then you were being handed your drinks in little plastic cups.

Minho thanked the lady in Japanese and English, just in case he’d butchered it the first time and then you were headed back out of the cafe, retracing your steps to the Tokyo Tower.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you said as you took your first sip.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, taking a sip in turn.

“How’s yours taste?” you asked.

“It’s good, yours?”

“Really good.”

Wordlessly, you traded cups with each other. It was like he had read your mind, or rather, shared the same train of thought.

You took a sip of his drink, letting the sweetness of the vanilla replace the saltiness of the caramel that still lingered on your tongue. You closed your eyes and hummed in satisfaction, taking another sip out of impulse. When you blinked them back open Minho was grinning at you like he knew something you didn’t.

“What?”

“You like mine better, don’t you?”

“What? No I don’t.”

“You took two sips of mine, and you moaned.”

“Oh my god, I did not moan,” you hissed elbowing him in the side.

“I think we’re remembering the last five seconds differently.”

“Just take your shitty drink back,” you groaned, shoving the cup in his direction.

“Oh, so now it’s shitty?”

“It always was.”

“Why’d you take more than one sip?”

“Maybe I like to suffer.”

“Is that why you’re dating my brother?”

You fought the urge to shove him, settling for glaring instead.

“If I liked it that much, I’d be dating you instead of him.”

Minho rolled his eyes at you but didn’t say anything else. For a second you thought you might have actually hurt his feelings until he offered you your original coffee back. You switched with him and started sipping on the drink again. You walked the rest of the way back to the tower in silence, trading drinks every few minutes.

The rest of the Hans were already waiting for you once you got back. They waved you down from a distance to be sure you wouldn’t miss them.

Jisung left his family and met you halfway. You automatically handed him your coffee so that he could try it, not bothering to tell him what was in it since you liked the same things anyway.

“I was wondering where you went.”

“Just needed a little caffeine,” you explained.

“Should’ve known.”

The following day, you were up before the sun. It wasn’t that you had to be, rather that your body woke you up on its own. You tried to go back to sleep, but were unsuccessful, finally giving up and scrolling through your phone instead.

Jisung was snoring softly next to you with his arm slung across your stomach. You glanced over at him for a moment, wondering if he was dreaming. He always told you he didn’t have dreams, but sometimes when he slept over at your place you would hear him talking in his sleep, suggesting that he must be dreaming about something. Your general psychology professor had told you that everyone dreams, but not everyone remembers them. You figured Jisung must fall under the latter category, forgetting everything that had happened while he slept as soon as he opened his eyes each morning.

You considered him lucky for it. He didn’t have to be haunted by nightmares for years after having them, and he didn’t have to deal with the guilt of having a sex dream you definitely should not be having a sex dream about. Like your best friend’s brother, for instance.

You’d tried to push it to the back of your mind by checking your email, scrolling through Twitter, and even doing the New York Times Daily Mini Crossword, but it still nagged at you no matter what you did.

Your entire body felt hot, and Jisung’s arm on top of you wasn’t helping. You had woken up in a cold sweat from the dream you’d had, feeling sticky with guilt and perspiration. It wasn’t the first dream you’d had about Minho, but it was the most sinful.

You wouldn’t be able to shake the images of lingering touches and strained moans from your memory any time soon. The way he had teased you over your panties, rubbing slow circles on your clit as you lay in bed together, was permanently burned into your conscious. It had felt so real. You almost wanted it to be.

You pressed your thighs together underneath the sheets, still aching from the dream. Your throat burned with arousal and humiliation. You tried to force the emotions down, afraid to wake Jisung with your heavy breathing. God, it had been way too long since you’d gotten laid. You were starting to go crazy.

Jisung’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, making him roll over to his other side. You thought the notification might have woken up, but when you lifted yourself up on your elbows to check he was still asleep.

You sighed to yourself and slipped out of bed. You knew you weren’t going to get any more sleep at this point. Trying would only frustrate you, and you didn’t feel like angry crying before seven a.m..

It was still dark out, but you assumed that there must be something open at this hour where you could grab breakfast. If not, you could still do with the walk. Some fresh air would do you some good anyway.

You grabbed a change of clothes from the pile of clean laundry on the dining table and changed in the bathroom. You fixed your hair and brushed your teeth and then snuck out the door with your phone and wallet, sending a quick text to Jisung to tell him where you were going in case he woke up while you were gone.

The hallway was eerily silent, as was the lobby. The only people there were the poor employees working the graveyard shift. They smiled politely at you as you walked through, but it didn’t meet their eyes. You couldn’t blame them. You’d be tired too if you had been awake that long.

As soon as you reached the door you heard your name being called from behind. You whipped around and spotted Minho in the lounge area, waving you over. He was dressed in a white hoodie and jeans and was pouring himself a cup of coffee at the complimentary drink station.

You hadn’t even realized his bed was empty when you left the room, but then again it had been too dark to see much of anything.

You approached him hesitantly. You could already feel your face heating up as flashes of your dream from the previous night played in front of your eyes.

“You’re up early,” he said, removing one of his AirPods so that he could hear your response.

“Could say the same for you,” you mused, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice.

He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Likewise.”

“Bad dreams?”

“Something like that.”

“Me too.” He held up his paper cup and turned to the coffee pot. “Want some?”

You shook your head. “I probably shouldn’t drink coffee on an empty stomach, but thanks.”

He nodded in understanding. “I never drink coffee unless I really need it. And I’m fucking exhausted.” You watched him take a sip in silence, noting the way his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you. “Is that my shirt?”

You looked down and confirmed that, yes, you were in fact wearing his shirt. It was a navy t-shirt with a Champion insignia on one of the breasts. You must’ve mistaken it for your own when you grabbed it from the stack of everyone’s folded laundry. It had been so dark, and you had been disoriented as it was.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I’ll go change-”

“No, don’t!” he blurted, holding a hand out to stop you. “It’s just a shirt, don’t worry about it. It looks better on you anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Well, thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Minho cracked a smile. “Don’t mention it.”

You rocked back on your heels, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants, which were thankfully actually yours.

“So, I was going to try and find something to eat around here. Did you want to come with me?”

“Sure,” he agreed easily. “We can get something for the twins too.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Alright then, let’s go.”

Minho followed you out of the lobby, throwing his hood over his head.

Oh right. Always have to be on.

The streets were already bustling with activity. Traffic trickled through the stoplights at an agonizing pace while shopkeepers and pedestrians rushed about, either trying to get everything in order to open for the day or make it to the train station in time for their morning commute.

Crates of fruit, and other fresh produce were being stacked on display tables, metal grates were being unlocked and pushed up like garage doors.

The air was still chilly from the night before, not yet insufferable from the summer heat. You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself to try and warm up. Your friends from school, including Jisung, had always made fun of you for how easily you got cold. To be fair, it was deserved. It could be like seventy degrees out and you’d need a sweater. Like it happened to be at this specific moment.

“Are you cold?” Minho asked.

“No, what makes you say that?”

“You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want my sweatshirt?”

“No, I’m already wearing your shirt. I don't need more of your clothes.”

“So… you’d rather freeze?”

You rolled your eyes. “I think freeze is a bit dramatic, don’t you?”

“God, you’re stubborn,” Minho groaned.

“Am I stubborn or are you just not used to people declining your offers?”

Minho pursed his lips in response.

“That’s what I thought.”

“I feel like it’s at least a little bit of both.”

“Fine, maybe you have a point there.”

He smiled, satisfied with the compromise.

You walked another block or so in silence. The sun had started to rise in the distance, painting the sky with faint shades of orange. It wasn’t visible over the skyline yet, but the city was already brighter. You checked the hours posted on the door of each cafe and restaurant as you passed them, but they all wouldn’t open for another half hour or so.

“What about here?” Minho suggested, leaning down to read the store hours.

It was a little pastry shop with counter displays full of assorted baked goods and sweets. The little neon open sign hanging in the window was illuminated and there were people inside, but he wanted to double check just in case.

“Looks good to me.”

The cashier greeted you in English before either of you had the chance to speak, and you chuckled. You weren’t sure if she recognized Minho, but even if she hadn’t, he was a dead giveaway.

“What do you want?”

“What about those fluffy pancakes?” you suggested, pointing to the ones behind the glass.

“Yeah, we could get a bunch of them and bring them back so we could all share.”

“Good idea.”

You stood back and let Minho order for you. You didn’t pay attention to how many pancakes he ordered until they were being handed across the counter to you in two separate boxes.

“These are kinda heavy,” you commented, lifting your box up and down like you were curling a weight.

“Need me to carry it?”

You held the container close to your chest defensively. “No, I got it.”

“What was that about not being stubborn?”

Jisung was still asleep when you eventually made it back to the hotel. You hadn’t realized how far you and Minho walked, but your calves were sore by the time you stepped off the elevator onto your floor.

You set the box you had been carrying on the table next to the laundry and walked over to the bed. You shook Jisung’s shoulder gently, smiling when he blinked open his eyes.

“Morning, sunshine,” you said brightly. “Breakfast is ready?”

“You cooked?” he mumbled in confusion.

“No, Minho and I went out and got breakfast.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“Oh, fuck you, Han,” you scoffed, picking up your pillow and hitting him with it. “I’m going to eat your pancakes.”

“No! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it!”

You narrowed your eyes at your best friend. “You’re just saying that.”

“Maybe…”

“I have half a mind to smother you with this pillow right now.”

Jisung held his hand up to block you before you could hit him again and then disarmed you by yanking it out of your grasp.

“What’s wrong with you!”

“My boyfriend’s an asshole, for starters!”

“Is that worth murdering me for?! Would it be worth it to go to jail?”

“Who says I’d get caught?”

“There are two witnesses! My brothers are standing right over there.”

“And they didn’t see anything, right boys?”

You turned to face Minho and Felix who were already digging into the food. Felix gave you a thumbs up as he shoved a bite of pancakes in his mouth and Minho gave you a hesitant nod, eyes wide.

Jisung shook his head. “My own blood…”

“Now come on, sleepyhead. Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

After everyone finished eating you all packed an overnight bag for a day of travel.

One of the main things Felix wanted to do in Japan was visit Kabeyu Hot Spring, a famous onsen in a cave. That very onsen was featured in his favorite manga, the one Yuji had introduced him to all those years ago.

The plan was to fly to Oita for the night, where the onsen was, and then return to Tokyo the next morning. Oita was on a different island of the Japanese archipelago than Tokyo, so it didn’t make sense to try to make it a day trip.

The flight would take less than two hours and then you’d get to relax in a natural spring for the rest of the day. It seemed worth it to you.

Felix had also mentioned going out to a bar or two afterwards, but you were still a little iffy on alcohol after what happened last time you got drunk.

The flight, cab to the hotel, and check-in process were relatively painless, and you and Jisung got your own room for the night which was a relief.

The onsen was only a short walk from the hotel, and despite the late afternoon heat, a cool breeze made the trek rather pleasant.

Jisung’s dad checked you in for the appointment and you were directed to the changing area where you could get dressed/undressed and store your things in the lockers. The changing area was unisex, which posed sort of a problem. You knew that sensitivity over nudity was a very Western concept, and that most cultures didn’t even view being naked as sexual or taboo. In fact, you were usually pretty comfortable in situations that required you to take your clothes off, but you had more than a few reservations about stripping in front of your best friend’s entire family. Especially his parents. And especially since you’d had a sex dream about his brother last night.

You faced the lockers as everyone around you began to change, face burning.

Thankfully, being nude at this particular onsen was optional, and if guests preferred not to be they were offered yuami-gis, or bathing clothes that were carefully washed and specifically provided by the staff so that they wouldn’t dirty the water. They could either be worn at the chest or at the waist, kind of like a towel.

Jisung waited with you until the rest of his family had left before he started to undress. It was like he could read your mind. You pulled your yuami-gi to just below your collarbone and let the elastic band at the top stretch to your body shape. The garment was a bit short, and the fabric appeared to be somewhat see-through, but it was better than having your tits completely out in front of your boyfriend’s parents.

"How do I look?” you asked, twirling so that Jisung could get the full effect.

“You look stunning,” he deadpanned. “Now let’s go find my family. They’re probably wondering what’s taking us so long.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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sluttywonwoo · 1 year ago

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@lexxxxs-things @baejinswrld @gaysontheprince @emogril @ngengngeng @tenshimara @stopeatread @seungminiesgf @lydatataylorsversion @cheolbs @bxnnyhwa @zheav @oiminho @pinkskiesdream @soohyukazz @spearb-gf @lonely00sbrat @linol1no @simple1605 @ninashellhole @yoorimin @catiuskaa @gemini-demon @kronikk @stay-gray @marsattacks @halesandy @ana-marais98 @jisungiexx @myfirstlovejoon @jihanlovic @rrapmonsta @hiskittyyywrites @som1ig @beomgyusonlywife @kingcarrot-thecarrotking @svt1771 @mzyfrxg @meowmeowhoon @devilsmatches @oh-my-fancan @yousuckrespectfully @lilamorris @fun-fanfics @laenderhaze @staurdvst @swaggieee @m111nho @ghostlyycat7 @lukeys-giggle @babygirlmimii @nocturnalscribbler @soobinhyunjin @coolsweaters @amethyst16xo @haikyuuiposts @hanjingin @moasworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @miniatureturtletacohairdo @lmhfilm @w-olfgang @hanniesss @she-wintersoldat @chellybear98 @stayklds @ilikekpop-c @allthethingsicant @robinyx @labyrinthonmymind @saphiccsunset @lualino @anna0906 @ilovedallywinston

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instead of you [part nineteen] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, reader has emetophobia, mentions of sex (mdni)

word count: 4.7k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

“Why not?”

“You’re asking me why I can’t admit to wanting to kiss you?”

“Who said I wanted to kiss you?”

He was backtracking, trying to dig himself out of a hole that he’d already buried himself in. He cocked an eyebrow at you, somehow still arrogant in the midst of vulnerability. You called his bluff.

“I’m not stupid.”

He leaned away from you, a fraction of an inch. “I never said you were.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Don’t act like you were testing me, like you had Jisung’s best interest in mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that for an actor you’re surprisingly transparent. No one leans that close to a person’s face for no reason. You were going to kiss me and now you’re trying to play it off like you were just testing me to see if I’d cheat on my boyfriend,” you paused for a beat, wondering if you could turn it around on him. “Because I was testing you, and you failed. Horribly.”

Minho blinked. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Does it look like I’m fucking with you?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I can’t tell.”

“Guess you’ll never know.”

“Guess so…” he trailed off, settling back into his own seat.

The moment was gone, dissipated along with the breath you’d been holding. It was like the tight line of tension running between you, inexplicably tying you to each other, had been given an inch of slack. It was still there, buried under layers and layers of repression and guilt, but subdued.

You couldn’t tell if you were relieved or disappointed. You didn’t want to admit to yourself that it was likely a bit of both.

Suddenly the bus lurched around a corner, sending you flying into Minho in an cruel, ironic twist of fate. Your head landed in his lap. As if that wasn’t bad enough, a speed bump caused your head to bounce up and come down back onto his thighs, face planting into his crotch again. You didn’t even want to think about what it looked like to the people across from you. This was not how you envisioned his dick pressing into your cheek would go.

Minho winced, helping you sit up. There was a tiny dark spot on his jeans, damp from where your open mouth had left an imprint on the fabric.

Mortified didn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling.

“Are you ok?” Minho asked, seeming totally unphased by the series of events that had just taken place. He was holding your shoulders like you’d run if he let go. He did a quick scan of your body, looking for marks as if you’d been hit by a car and not simply tossed into another human being.

“Fine, just absolutely humiliated,” you sighed, rubbing your cheek.

“Don’t be.”

“Well too late, I already am. And, uh, sorry about… that.”

Minho followed your gaze to the wet patch on his jeans. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It happens.”

“Does it though?”

He shrugged. “Seemed like the right thing to say.”

You slumped down in your seat, pinching the bridge of your nose. Minho brought his hands to his lap and turned to look out the window.

“Are you okay?” you heard yourself ask just moments later. “I mean,” your eyes flicked down to where his hands were resting on his lap. You thought he might have been holding himself in pain, but then you realized-

“Fine,” he answered through gritted teeth, and that was the end of the conversation.

The next stop was Mt. Fuji’s 5th station, another lookout- this time on the mountain, that provided an even better view. You felt a little dumb for taking all of those pictures at the first stop but then remembered what Jisung had said about sending him lots of photos and relaxed a little.

This stop also served as the lunch break. Meals were provided to guests that had added the option on their tickets. The Hans had elected not to spring for the included meal, leaving you and Minho to fend for yourselves. They invited you to join them at a noodle shop inside the station, but you declined, opting to use the time to explore and find something on your own.

More time alone, you thought to yourself. Great idea. The day wasn’t even half over and you’d already had a close call. Too close of a call. Was it really that hard to control yourself around your best friend’s brother? What was wrong with you? Maybe it’d be easier if he wasn’t such a fucking tease. Regardless, you needed to have a little more self-restraint.

The break period was only about an hour long and then you’d be driving to the next stop so you had to be quick.

You walked with Minho through the narrow passageways, nearly breaking into a jog to keep up with him. There were only three or four restaurants in the surrounding area, narrowing your selection down by a lot.

“Looks like our choices are kind of similar,” Minho said as he scanned the menu on the wall of the third restaurant you’d stopped in front of.

“Here seems as good of a place as any.”

It was relatively busy inside, but you and Minho were able to find a little corner table out of the way. You figured these places must make a fortune, seeing as there was so little competition and dozens of buses full of hungry tourists came through each day.

The exterior of the building was painted black, as were the walls inside to absorb heat. There were floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the dining room, showing off the breathtaking view of the mountain range in the near distance.

“What sounds good to you?” Minho asked, leaning over the table to see your menu even though he had one right in front of him.

“Seems like everyone’s ordering soup,” you mumbled and nodded to the tables closest to you to prove your point. “I guess that does sound kind of good, especially because it’s so cold up here.”

“We could order a couple different kinds and share?” he suggested.

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed nervously.

You might as well share soup with your best friend’s brother that you almost kissed just an hour prior. Yeah, makes perfect sense.

Minho ordered for both of you when the server noticed you were ready. You watched him effortlessly make conversation with the waiter, cracking jokes like he’d known the man his entire life, and it made you think of Jisung. Jisung who always ordered for you, Jisung who counted the dishes he ordered on his fingers to keep track of them, Jisung who made friends in every situation he found himself in.

“What?” Minho asked, yanking you from your thoughts.

You hadn’t even realized you’d been staring.

“Nothing, sorry.”

“You okay? You didn’t hit your head earlier, did you?”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, rolling your eyes. “Thanks for ordering for me.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. I noticed Jisung always orders for you so I just assumed you might’ve had some anxiety when it comes to that.”

“I do, yeah.” you admitted. “But it’s just something he’s always done for me, even before we started dating.”

The word dating seemed to snap Minho back to reality and he leaned away from you, straightening his posture and seeming to take great interest in the napkin in front of him.

“That’s sweet,” he muttered, sounding completely unconvinced.

“He can be when he wants to be. Shocking, I know.”

After lunch you took a walk around the lookout together, pointing out different signs with Japanese characters and trying to guess what they meant. Minho had paid for both of your meals, unsurprisingly, and you hadn’t even put up a fight. You already knew he wouldn’t let you pay for your own if you tried, slapping his card down on top of the bill before the server had even left the table.

You were listening to Minho talk about why he thought a sign by the bus stop said ‘no baseballs’ when you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. Minho had given it to you on the bus so you could listen to music on the ride up the mountain and you just hadn’t remembered to give it back to keep in his bag.

It was a text from Jisung. Minho stopped talking as soon as he noticed you weren’t paying attention to him anymore.

How is everything? Haven’t heard from you all morning! Send a pic of you and Minho when you can :)

“Ji wants us to send a picture.”

“Of what?”

“Of us.”

“Us? Like, both of us?” Minho asked, looking as confused as you felt.

You shrugged. “I guess he wants to make sure we haven’t killed each other yet.”

He nodded in understanding. “Proof of life photo, got it.”

“Where should we-” you paused, looking around for the best place to snap a selfie.

“Well we should get the mountains in the background, right?”

“Yeah, good idea. Let’s go over there.” You pointed in the direction of a cluster of benches gathered at the ledge of the mountain where people were taking pictures with their families.

The section was fenced off to prevent guests from falling off the face of the cliff, but that wasn’t stopping kids from climbing the railings or couples sitting on top of them. You settled for simply leaning against it, not trusting yourself enough to balance your weight on top of it.

“Here, you have longer arms,” you said, offering your phone to Minho.

He took it without argument and extended his arm so that both of you were in the frame. You’d forgotten that he was a practiced expert at taking selfies. You wondered how many phone cameras he knew how to use just from snapping pictures with fans at every event he attended.

You weren’t sure how close to stand to him, or what to do with your hands. You leaned towards him, not touching, and smiled awkwardly. You weren’t doing anything wrong at that very moment, so why did you feel so guilty? Minho snapped a couple photos and was about to hand the phone back when you were interrupted.

“Do you want me to take a photo of you?” a woman with a thick German accent asked. “You know, couple? I take photo for you, and you take photo of me with my family?”

You were about to politely decline, correct her, and just offer to take the picture of her family, but Minho was already handing the phone over. You were going to kill him.

Minho slung his arm around your shoulders like it was the most normal thing in the world and you forced yourself to wrap yours around his waist, resting your head on his chest as you bit the inside of your cheek. You could hear his heartbeat if you listened closely. It was steady, rhythmic. Not at all panicked or rushed like you were sure your own was. You faked a smile and waited until the camera stopped clicking before letting yourself breathe again.

Minho thanked the woman and traded places with her, taking a few pictures of her with her family while you paced anxiously in the background. You checked the time on your phone, wondering if it was time to go yet when you realized you still needed to text Jisung back.

You scrolled through your gallery, selecting all the pictures the nice lady had taken of you and Minho. Your finger hovered over the delete button, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to press it. You hit cancel, sighing in defeat.

You opened your messages again and stared at the blinking cursor. You flipped through the options on your camera roll, unsure of what to do. At the very least, you knew you couldn’t send one of the pictures the woman had taken to Jisung. He probably wouldn’t even question it, the pose was normal enough for friends, but then again what if he did? You couldn’t risk it.

You chose one of the selfies Minho had taken and hit send, promptly locking your phone as soon as you saw it was delivered.

“We have to get back on the bus.”

You looked at the time on your phone and then back at Minho, squinting in confusion. “We still have a couple minutes before we’re supposed to leave.”

“No, that woman’s son started talking about K-pop when I was taking their picture.” You glanced over your shoulder and saw the family huddled together, all indiscreetly staring at you and Minho.

“Don’t look!” he hissed. “Come on.”

He tugged you by the arm until your feet caught up with you and you were able to walk in step with him.

“They recognized you?”

“The little boy did. I don’t know if the others believed him.” You were tempted to look back, but you knew you’d probably be yelled at again. As if Minho could read your thoughts, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Keep your head down.”

“I don’t get it, doesn’t this happen to you all the time?” you asked. “What’s the big deal?”

“It doesn’t happen to me all the time, and when it does it’s usually not a big deal,” he explained as he ushered you up the steps of the coach. You shuffled your way to your seats, nodding in acknowledgment at his parents as you passed them. You got to the row first so you took the window seat. It was easier than having to shuffle around. “I don’t mind taking pictures with fans or signing things for them most of the time. It can get annoying, but I try to remember that I’m incredibly lucky to be in the position I’m in in the first place. And I’m just like them when it comes to football players and golfers, anyway.” You chuckled. “I’m serious! I stumble over my words when I meet them, and my hands are shaky when I ask them for an autograph- I’m a fucking mess. But we already had one close call this week with someone seeing you alone with me. Twice is asking for it.”

“Asking for what?”

“Rumors, articles, blog posts- I don’t even want to think about it.”

“I don’t think that little boy is going to start any rumors about us,” you said.

“You don’t understand.” Minho was serious, something you weren’t used to seeing from him. “It’s not that simple. Someone from that family posts a picture on Instagram, they tag me and they see you standing next to me. My fans… can be really invested in my personal life. And they’ll want to know who you are because they think we might be dating. That’s why I told you to keep your head down so they wouldn’t be able to see your face.”

“But guys and girls can be friends,” you reasoned.

“It’s the internet, y/n. No one cares. I’m seen alone with a woman and suddenly everyone wants to know everything about her from her high school GPA to who her mother voted for in the last presidential election.”

Oh. Ok, maybe Minho was right and this was a bit serious. Your social media wasn’t the worst there was out there, but it certainly wasn’t the cleanest per se… you had a whole story highlight dedicated to you and Jisung competing to see who could down a shot the fastest. Yeah, you were those people at parties. And even though you lost most of the time, you could already imagine the things people would say about it.

“I didn’t realize you were so popular,” was all you could say.

Minho chuckled bitterly. “I try not to advertise it.”

“I can see why.”

“It’d be hell for you to be associated with me.”

“I kind of already am,” you pointed out. Minho gave you a blank look as if he didn’t know what you meant. “Through your brother.”

“Right, Jisung.” Minho sighed, leaning back in his seat. “I don’t know what he’d do to me if you got tangled up in all this bullshit.”

“You’re always saying shit like that. Jisung is pretty harmless, you know.”

Minho shook his head in disagreement. “You only think that because you’re wearing rose-colored glasses when it comes to him.”

“That’s not true!”

“Oh, come on, yes it is.”

“We were friends for years before we started dating! I haven’t always seen him romantically.”

“Still, you haven’t known him as long as I have.”

“Well you have on… whatever the opposite of rose-colored glasses when it comes to him because you’re related to him!” you argued. “He can barely hold me on top of him- don’t ask how I know that.” Minho pursed his lips, suppressing a smirk. He’d clearly been about to ask. “I’m just saying I think you could take him.”

“I’m flattered, but I think you’re forgetting how protective he can be,” he protested. “Has he never gotten jealous?” Minho pressed, his body rocking slightly as the bus began to move. He stabilized himself against the seat in front of him, looking at you expectantly. “He’s never been possessive of you?”

You bit your bottom lip, trying to decipher whether or not this was a test. Did Minho suspect anything? Was he just being nosy or did he think there was something you were lying about. Was he trying to get dirt on his brother, prove to you that he’s not a good boyfriend? You weren’t sure what to think. You scrambled for something, running through your memories as you tried to piece together a story with fragments of half-truths.

“There were a couple of times…” you admitted, trying to even your breathing to sound more natural. “Like this one time, we were at a bar and this guy was trying to buy me a drink while he was in the bathroom and when he came back he just kinda came up to us and wrapped an arm around my waist and the dude fucked off.”

What had actually happened, was a guy tried to buy you a drink while Jisung was in the bathroom and you agreed, asking him to buy one for your friend Ji too. You let the dude assume it was short for Jisoo or whatever and entertained him while the bartender mixed the cocktails. As soon as you saw Jisung emerge from the bathroom you took both the drinks and ditched the man the second his back was turned. You presented your best friend with one of the drinks and toasted the man who bought them for you, clinking your glasses together in celebration. After you downed them, Jisung pulled you onto the dance floor with him, telling you to follow his lead. He made sure the stranger was watching and then kissed you hard right in front of him. You took it a step further, slipping your tongue into your best friend’s mouth and cupping his face between your hands. When you came up for air the man was walking out the door with a scowl on his face.

“Another time before we started dating he dropped me off on a date with another person, and wouldn’t even let me walk into the restaurant when he saw the guy through the window.”

That was true, but the real reason he didn’t let you go into the restaurant was because he knew the guy from one of his classes and had overheard him talking about how bi girls are freakier in bed which is why he actively sought them out.

“So I guess you’re right, he’s always been protective of me, even when we were just friends. But I don’t think he’d hurt anyone. He might say something brutal, but he wouldn’t swing at you unless he’s defending himself.”

“Well, I don’t want to take any chances.”

You thought Minho would be satisfied with your answers, but you couldn’t tell from the expression on his face.

You sat in silence for the rest of the bus ride to the next stop. There was that tension again. You curled into yourself, bringing your knees to your chest and pressing yourself against the window as you pulled your phone out of your pocket to text Jisung back.

J: dorks ;) looks like you’re having fun. love you!

Y: it’s ok i guess… would be better if you were here

J: that’s because everything’s better when i’m there

Y: nvm i take it back

J: rude

Y: how are you feeling??

J: just ok :/ mum sent lix and i some soup, but i couldn’t keep it down

J: sorry, i shouldn’t have said that part

Y: it’s ok

J: no it’s not- i know how you feel about that stuff

Y: ji, i promise it’s fine.

J: if you say so…

Y: i do

Y: btw… minho was asking if you’re ever get jealous

J: why

Y: idk it was weird- i told him about that time at the club near campus

You hoped he remembered which time you were talking about. You flirted with a lot of people for free booze.

J: i remember that night

Oh, so he did remember. Or he was bluffing just in case Minho was reading over your shoulder. You checked discreetly, sneaking a glance over at his brother. But Minho was scrolling through Twitter, completely in his own world.

J: did you tell him about what i did to you when we left >:)

Y: he’s not reading these, dumbass. you don’t have to do all that

J: i was referring to spilling my slushie down the front of your dress idk what you’re talking about

Y: i can’t stand you

“Hey, y/n.” You jumped at the sound of Minho’s voice, clutching your phone to your chest protectively. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just, we’re here.”

You hadn’t even realized the bus had stopped, but passengers were already getting off, eager to see the mountain from yet another view. Minho slid out of the row and stepped back to let you off in front of him.

“Where are your parents?” you wondered aloud as you passed their empty row.

“Guess they ditched us again,” Minho sighed. “Really loving this family trip. Not that hanging out with you isn’t cool and all,” he amended.

“It’s fine, I get it,” you assured him. “Except I’m going to take it very personally and give you the silent treatment for the rest of the day.”

He shook his head but laughed. You followed the rest of the tourists in your group who were getting into a fast-moving line and joined them at the end. You and Minho had been the last two on the bus so there wasn’t anyone else behind you.

You weren’t even sure what you were in line for, hell, you didn’t even know where you were, but men in beige coveralls were ushering the queue forward impatiently. They gave directions mostly through hand signals, pointing, thumbs up, thumbs down, probably so guests from all around the world could easily understand them.

Before you could even understand what was happening you were enclosed in a cable car that was ascending God knows how high with Minho and one other couple. They looked to be in their seventies, and were speaking Vietnamese to each other, completely oblivious to the seven stages of grief you were going through on the other side of the car.

“Minho” you whispered.

“I know,” he murmured back. He looked quite pale himself, but you knew it likely had more to do with being concerned about you than anything else. He hurriedly glanced around the tiny cabin as if there might be something in there that could help you.

“Minho,” you repeated, this time with more urgency.

“I-I” he paused, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this was part of the tour. I didn’t mean for- if I had known I would’ve suggested we stay back.”

“I feel sick,” you mumbled.

“Let’s sit down.”

Minho tried to cross the car over to you, but his movement caused the gondola to shake. You barely managed to muffle a scream of terror with your fist. The car swung violently on the wire and you suddenly wondered how up to code these cable cars were. When was the last time they had been inspected? How old were they in the first place?

If you looked closely you could see rust corroding some of the bolts and paint chipping from the benches. It took everything in you not to collapse to the floor and assume fetal position.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Minho apologized. “I’m going to move again, okay?”

“No, please don’t!” you begged.

“I have to! I have to move to get over to you. It’ll just be one more time, I promise.”

You nodded, even though you were dreading it and screwed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the rocking. The jolt was bigger than you expected and for a moment you thought the cable had snapped and you were plummeting towards the ground, but when you opened your eyes you were still moving steadily upward and Minho was by your side.

“Why did you jump!” you cried. “We could’ve died!”

God bless him for his patience. He wasn’t even phased by your accusations, instead he just took you by the hands and eased you onto the bench behind you, sitting next to you a moment later.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you groaned, wiping your sweaty palms on your hands.

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“That’s not true, I yelled at you.”

“I’ve had worse, trust me.”

He was trying to make you laugh, but you were still terrified out of your mind. Your whole body was trembling and your stomach was twisting with nausea. You were trying not to look down, but the whole cabin was made of glass. It was impossible not to look, and closing your eyes only made you feel sicker.

“Want to hold my hand like last time?” Minho offered.

You were quick to accept, grabbing his hand as soon as it was outstretched.

“I’m sorry my palms are clammy.”

“Mine are too, it’s okay,” he assured you, even though they were completely dry.

You squeezed his hand hard, just like you had on the rollercoaster. But it wasn’t making you feel any better.

“Minho, I’m scared.”

“I know, y/n. It’s okay though. You’re safe with me. I’ve got you, I promise. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“How can you say that?” you whined, eyes darting around to all of the windows. “You can’t control whether or not we fall out of the sky!”

You suddenly felt horribly guilty for the other couple trapped in the cable car with you. They were probably just trying to enjoy their vacation and there you were having a mental breakdown thousands of feet in the air with nowhere for them to escape to.

Minho laughed despite himself and used his free hand to grab your face, turning your attention to him.

“Hey, look at me, okay? Don’t look out the windows. Just focus on me.”

“Okay,” you gulped.

You focused on his face. On the way his soft features hardened around the edges. His sharp jawline and perfect nose, easing into the light blush of his cheeks and warm, brown eyes. The dichotomy was striking, and the late afternoon sun that was shining in through the dirty glass made him look angelic. The way the light cast a golden halo around his curls was enough to draw anyone and you found yourself leaning closer and closer to his face.

You were the one to kiss him this time, but he more than reciprocated. The moment your lips touched he was tangling a hand in your hair, groaning softly against your mouth. His lips were just as warm and soft as you remembered, but the kiss was a million times more damning. You were both completely sober, even if you’d been consumed by terror moments earlier. You knew what you were doing. You both did. And you had the first time, but now there was no excuse.

You pulled away a moment later. “I-I’m sorry. I just had to see…”

Minho brought a hand up to your face and you flinched, but all he did was run a thumb across your cheek, collecting a stray tear on his fingertip. You hadn’t even noticed you’d started crying, and whether it was from fear or guilt you couldn’t be sure.

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