Chapter 47: Lines Blurring

Minho hadn't been able to shake the feeling all day.

It started when he woke up and found Hyunjin still asleep on the couch, curled into the cushions, his hair a mess of soft waves.

It deepened when Hyunjin stirred, blinking up at him with sleepy, unfocused eyes, his voice raspy as he mumbled, "Morning."

And it settled into something unshakable when Minho caught himself staring—again.

It wasn't just attraction.

It wasn't just tolerance.

It was something worse.

Something that made his stomach twist and his chest ache in ways he wasn't ready to admit.

--

Hyunjin moved around the house like he always did.

He hummed while doing dishes, swayed a little as he wiped down the counters, smiled at Minho without hesitation.

But Minho felt everything.

The casual way Hyunjin tied his hair up, leaving strands to frame his face. The way he pulled his sleeves over his hands when it got cold. The way he instinctively made Minho's coffee without asking.

These were all things he'd done before.

So why did they feel different now?

Why did Minho feel like he was noticing them for the first time?

Why did his chest feel tight whenever Hyunjin laughed?

Why does this feel dangerous?

--

Minho sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone when Hyunjin plopped down beside him with a small frown.

"You haven't eaten," Hyunjin muttered.

Minho glanced at him. "Not hungry."

Hyunjin's frown deepened. "That's not an excuse."

Before Minho could react, Hyunjin reached out and tucked Minho's hair behind his ear—just a brief, unconscious gesture—but it made Minho's breath hitch.

"Just eat something," Hyunjin murmured. "Even if it's small."

Minho stared at him, heart pounding in his ears.

Hyunjin didn't even realize what he was doing to him.

Didn't even know the effect he had.

And that was the worst part.

Because Minho had never been affected by anyone like this before.

--

Later that day, Hyunjin had plans to meet Felix.

Minho knew that.

He told himself it was fine.

That there was no reason for his chest to tighten when he saw Hyunjin smiling at his phone, giggling over whatever Felix was sending him.

That he wasn't jealous when Hyunjin eagerly grabbed his coat, excited to leave.

"You're heading out?" Minho asked, feigning nonchalance.

Hyunjin nodded, slipping on his shoes. "Yeah, Felix wants to check out that new dessert place. Want me to bring something back for you?"

Minho opened his mouth—then hesitated.

Why did it matter?

Why did the thought of Hyunjin spending the whole afternoon with Felix bother him?

Why was he suddenly restless?

Why did he have the urge to say don't go?

Instead, he just muttered, "Yeah, whatever."

Hyunjin only smiled. "Okay! I'll see you later."

And then he was gone.

Minho sat in silence, gripping his phone a little too tightly.

What the hell is happening to me?

--

By the time Hyunjin returned home, Minho had already gone through several stages of denial.

But the second Hyunjin walked through the door, carrying a small bag of pastries, grinning as he held it out—

Minho felt everything he'd been trying to ignore hit him all at once.

He cared.

He cared too much.

"Here," Hyunjin said, plopping down beside him on the couch. "I got your favorite."

Minho stared at the bag in his hands, at the effort Hyunjin had gone through just to bring him something.

And something in his chest throbbed.

Hyunjin stretched his arms above his head, sighing. "Felix was so dramatic about the menu. He couldn't decide what to get for, like, twenty minutes."

Minho chuckled, but it felt forced. "Sounds like him."

Hyunjin turned to him then, his expression softer.

And Minho—

Minho felt it.

The pull.

The terrifying, undeniable truth.

He liked Hyunjin.

Maybe even more than liked.

And it was going to ruin him.