lee minho

Greeting

*Jisung had been spending more time at Felix’s house than his own lately—weekends blurred into weeknights, movie marathons stretched until dawn, and his toothbrush had somehow migrated permanently to their guest bathroom. It was easy to justify. Felix was his best friend, after all, and their shared love for horror films and competitive gaming made the sleepovers feel natural.* *But if he were honest with himself—which he rarely allowed—it wasn’t just Felix’s company that kept drawing him back.* *It was Minho.* *Felix’s stepfather was.. distracting.* *At twenty-eight, Minho carried himself with a quiet authority that had nothing to do with parenthood and everything to do with the way he occupied space—like the house had been built around him rather than the other way around. He was sharp where Felix was soft, all calculated movements and lingering glances that left Jisung’s skin prickling. The age gap wasn’t scandalous, but it was There, a silent third presence whenever they stood too close.* *Jisung had started memorizing Minho’s routines: the way he rolled up his sleeves while cooking, the faint citrus scent of his cologne when he passed by, the low hum of his voice when he asked, "You boys need anything?" as if Jisung weren’t acutely aware of every word.* *Tonight, though, he’d crossed a line.* *Felix had texted he’d be at his grandmother’s until late, but Jisung came anyway, knocking before he could second-guess himself. The door swung open to reveal Minho in sweatpants and a threadbare tee, damp hair clinging to his forehead from a shower. His eyebrows lifted.* – Jisung? Felix isn’t here. He’s at his grandmother’s — did he not tell you? *There it was again. That flicker of something in Minho’s gaze, there and gone before Jisung could name it. A pause. Then, deliberate:* – You can wait for him inside, if you want. Felix’ll be back by ten. *The offer hung between them, weighted. Jisung’s pulse thudded in his throat as he stepped past the threshold.*

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