Seo-Jun's hand, usually so steady, trembled slightly as he reached for Minho's wrist, pulling him down onto the bed. The scent of old paper and dust filled the air, a familiar comfort in the dimly lit room. He stood up, positioning himself directly in front of Minho. His arms crossed, a fortress of controlled emotion, his eyes locked on Minho's, searching, assessing. "This kid", he thought, the words a silent storm raging within, "is unbelievably unfazed by the fact that he almost got himself killed today."
Minho was caught in the intensity of Seo-Jun's gaze, a deer caught in headlights. He fidgeted, unable to meet Seo-Jun's eyes, a telltale flush creeping up his neck and staining his ears a delicate pink. Seo-Jun's internal battle raged on, a conflict of logic and… something else. "And why do I care? Why does it bother me so much? It's not like he's my responsibility." He took a steadying breath, the air catching in his throat, and spoke, his voice low and even, a carefully constructed façade of calm, never breaking eye contact. "You do realise what you did today was incredibly reckless?"
Minho offered a slight nod, his gaze fixed on the floorboards, tracing the imperfections in the wood, anything to avoid the piercing intensity of Seo-Jun's stare. The silence hung heavy in the air.
"And that if I hadn't been there," Seo-Jun continued, his voice laced with a controlled frustration, "you would have almost certainly ended up dead." Another nod, barely perceptible this time. Seo-Jun's internal frustration mounted, threatening to break through his carefully constructed composure. "This is getting ridiculous. I should be angry, I should be indifferent, but... I can't." He sighed, the sound a soft release of tension, a surrender to the emotions he usually kept locked away. "I can't always be there to save you, Minho. You need to start thinking about your own safety before you do something so incredibly stupid again."
Minho's head lifted, his eyes finally meeting Seo-Jun's. A faint blush blossomed on his cheeks, spreading across his cheekbones and painting them a delicate rose. His breath hitched, a silent gasp escaping his lips. "What? Is he… worried about me?!" The thought was a jolt, a spark igniting in the quiet space between them. "Why am I blushing so much?! Did he… did he just call me Minho?!" The questions swirled in his mind, a confusing mix of surprise and something else, something warm and unfamiliar, blossoming in his chest.
Seo-Jun's frustration simmered beneath the surface, a constant low hum of annoyance. "What am I even doing?" he thought, the words a bitter taste on his tongue. "I'm being too soft with him. He won't listen to a word I say. I've never been like this before… this careful, this… soft with my words… not even with Lily…" The thought of Lily, a shadow of a sibling relationship, flickered in his mind, a stark contrast to the present situation. "But somehow", he admitted to himself, the admission a grudging surrender, "I can't help it with him…"
The silence between them was a palpable thing, thick with unspoken emotions. They stared at each other, locked in a silent battle of wills, their thoughts a chaotic storm raging beneath their composed exteriors. Minho, his cheeks flushed a delicate pink, fidgeted slightly, unable to hold Seo-Jun's gaze. Seo-Jun, on the other hand, was a picture of barely contained annoyance, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed. The air crackled with unspoken tension.
After what felt like an eternity, Seo-Jun finally broke the silence, his voice low and laced with a frustration he could barely control. "What?" The single word hung in the air, a loaded question, a challenge.
Minho flinched, the sound barely audible, his blush deepening, spreading across his cheekbones and staining his ears a vivid crimson. He realised he'd been caught staring and quickly bowed his head, a gesture of respect and, perhaps, a hint of apology. "Nothing, sir! It's nothing!" he stammered, his voice a nervous tremor.
Seo-Jun's carefully constructed composure finally shattered. The annoyance that had been simmering within him boiled over, and he rolled his eyes, the gesture betraying his true feelings. "Stop doing that already." he snapped, his voice sharp with a frustration he could no longer contain.
Minho, confused and a little surprised, tilted his head, his brow furrowing in concern. "W-what?" he asked, his voice a small, uncertain whisper, the question a plea for understanding in the face of Seo-Jun's unexpected outburst.
Seo-Jun's voice, a low rumble of annoyance, cut through the tension. "Stop being so formal with me. It's annoying." The words were a direct command, a dismissal of the rigid formality that had defined their interactions.
Minho's confusion deepened, his thoughts a whirlwind of bewilderment. "What?!" he thought, the question a silent protest against the sudden shift in Seo-Jun's demeanour. "But he was the one who told me to be like this at the beginning of our deal." The memory of their initial agreement, the terms and conditions that had governed their relationship, now seemed like a distant echo.
Seo-Jun, his annoyance still simmering, pressed on. "And stop addressing me as 'sir'. That annoys me even more." The words were a clear rejection of the formality, a demand for a more casual approach. With that, he turned and began to walk towards the bathroom, his movements a deliberate attempt to escape the conversation.
In a flash, Minho processed Seo-Jun's words, his mind racing to understand the unspoken implications. A certain way of address popped into his head, a way that Lily had been calling Seo-Jun since the moment she walked inside the house. He then blushed slightly and said, "Then... should I call you... Jun?"
The words hung in the air, a tentative offering, a hesitant step towards a more intimate connection. Seo-Jun froze, his back to Minho, his surprise hidden from view. His mind went blank, he was speechless, as he had never expected someone else to be calling him in that way. He then turned around to face Minho, who was blushing a lot at this point, and fought to keep eye contact with Seo-Jun. He then said, "Call me whatever you want... except 'sir'." With this he turned around, and a slight smile crept onto his face as he thought, "How can I stay away now when he is being like this...?"
Seo-Jun's words, "I will take a shower now." hung in the air, the echo of them swallowed by the sudden silence. As the bathroom door clicked shut behind him, a different kind of storm brewed within the confines of the room. Minho remained, a statue amidst the disarray of the bed, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs. Each beat was a hammer, each pulse a reminder of the turmoil within. His fingers, tracing the frantic rhythm against his chest, felt the frantic dance of his own blood. A blush, unwelcome and persistent, bloomed across his cheeks, a visible testament to the chaos within.
"My heart is pounding so fast! It's like it's going to explode! And I am all blushing! Does this mean... I am falling for him?" he whispered to himself, the question a fragile thing in the sudden quiet. The words themselves seemed to hang in the air, a desperate plea, a realisation as sudden and breathtaking as a summer storm.