Alex4403
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Summary
“Minho, listen to me. Whatever you do, don’t bite him, okay?”
“Bite,” Minho repeats foggily, liking the way the word feels in his mouth, between his teeth.
“I wouldn’t usually be concerned about your control, but with you two…”
“Us two.” He thinks about it. He’s never let himself think of them as an us before. Jisung continues to linger by the door, so close, painfully close. Within claiming distance. Just a scant inch or two of door between them.
“He’s your blind spot,” Chan says matter-of-factly.
“Blind spot?”
There’s a short sigh. “This conversation is going nowhere. I’m coming over, okay? Minho? I’m coming.”
“Minho?” Jisung asks again, and he can feel himself smiling, sunning in the sound of his voice.
“Sung-ah,” Minho says warmly, phone slipping from his hand and thunking softly against the carpeted floor. “Omega.”
Jisung presents late, panics, and hides it from his friends. As the weeks pass, Minho is haunted by a mystery scent that calls to him like nothing ever has before.
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Minho had barely been affected by scents before. Some were nicer than others, and a few were a bit off-putting, but he’d never felt more than that.
And he definitely never had an urge to bite like he did when Jisung smiled, all heart-shaped, and said, “It’s been a long time, hyung.”
After a painful rift and four years of separation, Minho’s brother’s best friend shows up at his door. He doesn’t know what to do about it.
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Felix only dated three guys, and now they're all in a band together.
Minho, as his friend, finds it extremely hilarious.
If he also happens to find Han Jisung chewable, that's no one's business but his own.
It's not like he's going to fool around with the man who broke Felix's heart.
(He does.) -
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Summary
Lee Minho and Han Jisung have been roommates for so long that neither of them remembers when their routines stopped being separate.
Breakfast is always waiting in the microwave.
Friday nights always end with a movie.
The apartment is always a little too loud with three cats, one gecko, and eight friends who treat the place like a second home.
It's comfortable.
It's familiar.
It's definitely not love.
Until one ordinary Friday forces them to confront just how much of home they've built around each other.
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